


Work Song

by almeida4eva



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: ASoIaF, F/M, Hozier, Multi, Song fic, Work Song, jaime x brienne - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-13
Updated: 2014-12-12
Packaged: 2018-02-21 00:55:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 25,211
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2449376
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/almeida4eva/pseuds/almeida4eva
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Song fic. Based on Hozier's Work Song.</p><p>I have all chapters drafted so should be able to update regularly! ;)</p><p>I hope it comes across well…. I tend to rant on when I write….</p><p>Here goes….</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

 

"C'mon Brie. For me?" Margaery gave Brienne her best puppy dog eyes over breakfast. As if she needed to; she was one of Brienne's oldest friends _and_ her roommate. And though the prospect of spending an evening playing gooseberry wasn't at the top of her list - in fact it didn't even make the list - Margaery had been begging Brienne to meet her new boyfriend for weeks.  
  
Margaery had been dating Oberyn Martell for a month now; somewhat of a record for her. Not that Brienne was judging - just that Margaery usually preffered care-free, non-committal relationships. So, seeing as her friend had clearly fallen for the Dornishman, Brienne acquiesced and resigned herself to an evening of being the ungainly, single friend.  


* * *

  
  
Later that day Brienne was standing in her room staring at the scrap of clothing that was draped over her bed. It was a stunning blue dress; the shape was very simple with a modest neckline, the length however, was a different story altogether. Detaching the note from Margaery, she held the dress up against herself, examining it in the full-length mirror on her wall. The hemline would sit mid-thigh on her long, muscular legs. Brienne already knew she would be spending the whole night tugging it down to an appropriate length, and to hide her unsightly legs.  
  
She re-read the note Margaery had left her.  
  
 **"Brie, saw this and thought of you. It's about time your legs had their time to shine!**

**Remember, sometimes less is more ;P**

**I'll be back later, Love Margaery -X- "**  
  
What was with her obsession with Brienne's legs!?  
  
Brienne sighed and let the note flutter back to the bed. She took another dissatisfied look at her reflection... she rolled her eyes; this was going to be a long night.  


* * *

  
  
Margaery got home a little before 8:00pm; giving her just enough time to shower, dress and go through her rigorous hair and make-up ritual. She applied various lotions and foundations; all combining to give her a flawless, effortless look.  
  
Brienne was ready in 20 minutes.  
  
She'd showered and dressed and allowed Margaery to apply the smallest amount of black mascara and eyeliner. Margaery insisted that it bought out the blue of her eyes and Brienne found that she liked the look. They were the only thing Brienne didn't completely hate about herself so she'd smiled genially when her friend told her that she looked pretty. She knew Margaery only had her best interests in mind but no-one could convince her that she was anything but plain and ugly. Brienne knew the truth of it. Her hair was dry and untamed; the dress too short (as she'd predicted), her lips were chapped and her nose was too broad for her freckled face. She looked disproportionate and ridiculous.  
  
Margarey looked sensational in high heels and her elegant floral dress. She strode to the door, collecting their keys and her small clutch bag as she went - graceful and poised in a way Brienne could only ever dream about.  
  
"Ready Brie?"  
  
"Sure. Let's go." Brienne tried to sound cheerful but she didn't think it would be a very fun evening; at least not on her part. Social outings were always awkward and strained for her.

* * *

  
  
Sunspear was as crowded as ever when they arrived. The heavy beat of the music thrumming through the throng of dancers. Oberyn's brother owned the club so Margaery and Brienne were admitted immediately and directed to a private booth where Oberyn awaited; drink already waiting for the girls.  
  
Margaery's face lit up when she greeted Oberyn. He embraced her tightly and kissed her softly on the lips. The joy in his eyes was unmistakable. Brienne turned away, jealous of their relationship; she immediately felt like an awful person and a wretched friend.  
  
"Oberyn, this is Brienne. Brie this is Oberyn." Margaery's voice pulled Brienne back into the moment. Her lips formed a genuine smile as Oberyn's eyes greeted her warmly. He enveloped her in a hug, squeezing her gently. It was a little to intimate for Brienne but Oberyn released her from his grip before she could become too uncomfortable.  
  
"Nice to meet y-" Brienne began before an obnoxious voice interrupted her.  
  
"Jesus Oberyn - I thought you said your new girl was hot and _dainty._ " The last word was slurred in a horrendous mock-English accent. Whoever this guy was he clearly knew Margaery's new squeeze and was clearly wasted.  
  
Oberyn flashed Brienne an apologetic smile. "No Jaime, remember - I said she was tall and strong and could kick my ass if I dared to step outta line." He shot off a quick wink to Brienne. Margaery was hidden somewhere behind them, chuckling behind her 'dainty' hand. Oberyn's friend looked her up and down, his eyes lingering too long on Brienne's bare legs.  
  
Oberyn shifted and put his arm around Margaery's petite shoulders. "Don't be a dick all night Jaime." He said warningly.  
  
The four of them squeezed into the booth, downing drinks and chatting amicably. Well, Oberyn, Margaery and Jaime drank - Jaime more so than the others. And it was only Margaery, Oberyn and Brienne that attempted conversation; Jaime could not string two words together he was so inebriated.  
  
To the casual observer it would appear that the four of them were on a double date. But if anyone cared to look a little closer they would see one very loved-up couple, sharing drinks and stealing kisses. And then they would see two people that would rather be anywhere else than stuck with each other.  
  
Jaime had said nothing since his rude introduction; he'd merely grunted at Margaery as a welcome. He had swallowed whisky after whisky - mixing in a beer every few drinks or so. By all rights he _should_ have look awful; his eyes were bloodshot, his hair lank and ruffled and he sure could use some strong coffee and a hot shower. But despite all of this the man still looked like a God.  
  
On a trip to the ladies room Margaery had told Brienne why Jaime's behaviour was so deplorable. He had a broken heart. But not a real broken heart Margaery had said - because the girl he had loved (still loved) had lied and cheated and had never really loved Jaime the way he had loved her.  
  
Brienne thought that surely that meant Jaime had _more_ of a broken heart. To love unconditionally and not have that love returned was a pain beyond measure.

 

* * *

  
  
'Brienne we're going back to ours for drinks.' Margaery said, waving her hand in front of Brienne's face to get her attention. Brienne had zoned out, scanning the crowd and playing 'guess who the serial killer is.' It wasn't hard in this crowd.  
  
Brienne smiled up at her friend as she grabbed her coat from the back of her chair, secretly glad that the evening was over. Marg and Oberyn were holding hands as the four of them exited the club. Brienne had been hoping that Jaime would call a cab and leave separately; unfortunately it appeared as if he was tagging along as he followed them to the car Oberyn had waiting.  
  
Brienne squeezed into the car, Jaime beside her and Oberyn and Margaery were opposite them facing the back of the vehicle. Though the happy couple were sitting a lot closer together - they still appeared to have more room than Jaime and Brienne; another downside of her large frame Brienne thought.

 

Jaime leant his head against the cool glass of the window and by the time they reached the end of the street he was dozing softly. He smelled like he had bathed in alcohol rather than just consumed it.  
   
Brienne leant forward slightly from her seat; 'Is he going to be ok?' She half-whispered to Margaery and Oberyn.  
   
'Pfffttt. He'll be fine. One hell of a hangover I'm sure - but he'll be fine.' Oberyn stated, gesturing towards Jaime. 'Serves him right for going on a three day bender.' He clearly had little sympathy for his friend. Brienne shrugged and sat back, looking out of her own window for the rest of the way home.  
 

* * *

  
   
Brienne sat on her bed, her laptop across her thighs as she leant against the wall. It was 2am and she had her headphones on as loud as possible whilst trying to get some work done. Sleep was impossible with Margaery and Oberyn's _'extra curricular activites'_ in the room next to hers.  
   
So, Brienne had cranked up the volume on her headphones and resigned herself to trying to finish some work. She had gained an internship at a local publishing house and was eager to make a good impression.  
   
At around 1am her mind had begun to wander and work had turned to aimless typing. Anything that popped into her head she typed: song lyrics, memorable quotes, her thoughts, a grocery list... anything.  
   
Her eyelids were beginning to droop. She was just finishing up adding an appointment to her diary for the next day's afternoon when she felt extra weight on her bed dip the mattress beside her. Brienne flung her arm out in panic - a reflex; which also effectively tore her headphones from their position atop her head.  
   
They had left Jaime passed out on the sofa - Oberyn once again assured the girls that Jaime would be fine and that there was no way any of them were paying for a taxi for him.  
   
 _Now_ , Jaime was groaning like a 5 year old - his long fingers pressing gingerly against his stubbled jaw where Brienne had (inadvertently) struck him.  
   
 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaime wakes up with a monster hang over!
> 
> (I think this chapter may be a little wishy-washy.... :S sorry guys!)
> 
> -X-

 

* * *

 

‘Gods, Wench!’ Jaime said, fondling the bruise that was starting to appear on his jaw. ‘Why in the Seven Hells did you hit me?’ Jaime – drunk as he was – genuinely sounded confused.

‘Why are you in my room?’ Brienne asked indignantly.

‘Needed a piss.’ Jaime slurred as he shifted his weight on the bed, motioning towards his lap. Brienne flushed scarlet as she noticed that his fly was unzipped – she could see his black boxer shorts; luckily nothing else was on show.

‘Well, as you can see, this is my bedroom _not_ the toilet.’ Brienne huffed. ‘You want the door at the end of the hall.’ She said, expecting him to get up and leave. He did not.

‘Why are you up so late Wench?’ He asked.

‘I couldn’t sleep, so I’m working.’ She replied shortly. ‘And stop calling me Wench!’ He grinned at the last part.

Jaime snorted, ‘Oberyn fucks like a champion.’ He stated, perhaps he had been in the same situation as her in the past. She doubted it though – surely he had someone of his own to distract himself with. _Not any more though she thought_ , feeling a little sad for him.

Jaime made no move to leave; instead he leaned closer to her, peering at her laptop screen. ‘What are you doing?’ He mumbled, trying to read the words on the screen but his eyes were too bleary from the alcohol. Brienne closed down her calendar app and shut the lid of her laptop.

‘Nothing that concerns you. Why haven’t you left yet?’ She really was tired now and wanted nothing more than to curl up in bed and go to sleep.

Jaime grunted at her in a non-reply _still_ not attempting to vacate her room. Brienne pushed herself up off the bed and began to tidy her room – perhaps then he would get the message that she wanted to be left alone.

Honestly, there was much to tidy; her room basically consisted of her bed and a built-in wardrobe in the corner. There was no mirror, no photos, no knick-knacks cluttering the space. Brienne loved her friends dearly and missed her father more than she could say – but she did not need photos and trinkets to remember them. A mirror was never a good idea; catching a glimpse of her reflection usually only helped in ruining a good mood.

Brienne sighed and picked up a few stray pieces of clothing and put them in the wardrobe, re-arranging some items on the shelf to make room for her laptop. She turned to fetch it; expecting Jaime to have left whilst she was ignoring his presence. Instead, she found him sprawled across her bed – passed out yet again.

Brienne considered picking him up and moving him back to the sofa in the living room – she was sure she was strong enough. But in the end she decided against it; she was tired and in no mood to deal with an inebriated Jaime Lannister. So she packed away her laptop, and went to sleep on the previously occupied sofa, cursing the Gods that Jaime Lannister had barged into her life and now her bed!

* * *

 

Jaime turned over, burying his head into the pillow and inhaling - the smell of vanilla was a welcome, if not unexpected, surprise. He cracked his eyes open ever so slightly; he had no idea what time it was but he was damn sure it was too early for him to be up.

He took in his surroundings; sky blue walls, a large window and a wardrobe in the corner. Nothing else occupied the room but for the bed - it was sparse of any clutter. Empty. His eyes opened a little more - _where in the Hells was he?_  

Against his better judgement, Jaime pushed off the covers and sat up - searching his memory for a clue as to where he was. Most of it was a blur; he really should cut down on his drinking. He'd been with Tyrion right? No, that was the night before... Oberyn, that was it! He'd been with Oberyn and his new squeeze... Maggie? Yeah that sounded right. Jaime thought he remembered someone else... a girl? No, the figure in his mind was no lady – one of Oberyn’s friends perhaps. Maybe he’d been dreaming in his fevered state…

Jaime concluded that he must be in the girlfriend’s house as he would've recognised Oberyn's. Gods, he hadn't gone home with some small, slight excuse of a woman had he? No he was fully clothed – that had to be a good sign. Jaime was hotter than all of the Seven Hells combined. He felt exhausted; his fevered dreams were becoming worse. He _really_ must drink less... Cersei was gone and becoming a full-time drunk wasn't going to help matters. _It helps me forget_ , said Jaime's stubborn side.

Jaime groaned as he rose from the bed; there was no sign of a girl's things - his safest bet was that he was at this Maggie's house. Knowing Oberyn's track record he would've worn her out all evening so Jaime should be free to sneak out without an awkward encounters.

His head pounded as he stretched his tired muscles; his mouth tasted like something had died in there and even the dimly lit room was hurting his eyes. He wanted nothing more than a hot shower, some painkillers and a few more hours sleep. Jaime made his way out of the door and into - what he assumed was the lounge - he moved slowly, as if walking through tar.

Jaime made it to the lounge (barely), when he saw that the sofa was made up with a pillow and blanket – _how many people had stayed here last night?_ Noise filtered through from the kitchen; the sound needling Jaime’s over-sensitive brain. Three days on a drunken sin. _Never again_ , he told himself. _‘Lannister’s do not make fools of themselves,’_ his father’s stern voice echoed in his mind.

Jaime pressed the heels of his hands over his eyes. Forcing out the voices, the guilt, the nausea... his once beloved cousin Cersei... he wanted them all gone. Jaime’s shirt was sticking to his body; he felt hot and sweaty and uncomfortable. Honestly, he wanted to die.

The aroma of coffee peaked Jaime’s interest; the smell was familiar – warm and welcoming. He strode over to the kitchen hoping to find his friend rather than this Maggie girl or whoever had slept on the couch.

A tall, lean figure was hunched over the coffee machine – he had broad shoulders and short, pale blonde hair. One of Oberyn’s athletic friends from the gym perhaps? He sure had the physique for it.

Jaime almost choked on his tongue when the figure turned around and revealed himself – _herself_ – to be a woman. It had been an easy mistake on his part. She was broad, large and muscular; but her eyes looked pretty (from what he could glimpse of them) - far too pretty to belong to any man.

Her eyes, unfortunately, were the only appealing thing about her. Her hair looked dry and brittle, her lips were chapped and an unforgiving frown crumpled her features – she looked... _pissed_. Jaime prayed to the Old Gods and the New that he hadn’t done anything to upset her; he did _not_ want to be on the wrong side of the Amazonian woman that stood before him.

Before he could introduce himself – or re-introduce himself – as the case may be, the tall woman moved towards him. She held a mug of steaming hot coffee between her too-large hands and for a tiny moment Jaime thought she may throw it in his face. Thankfully she did not. She brushed past him, transferring the mug from her hands to his as she went, ‘Lannister.’ She grumbled in acknowledgement of his presence. And then she was gone. Jaime watched her close the door at the end of the hall and then he heard the unmistakable sound of the shower running.  

Jaime noticed that she had left some aspirin on the counter too. He picked them up and swallowed them eagerly – hoping they would kick in fast. Jaime lingered in the kitchen; sipping his coffee and trying to remember what had actually happened the previous evening ( _evenings_ ).

He was pretty sure he’d seen Tyrion two nights ago; they’d drank whiskey whilst Tyrion had lectures Jaime on how _not_ screwing their cousin was a good thing. Jaime was fairly certain that he spent the next night alone, in his apartment, drinking anything he could find that contained alcohol.

The coffee must have been working because he now had at least a vague notion of what he’d been doing for the past three days. His brain was hammering on the insides of his skull. Still, he could not quite recall who the large blonde woman was.

Jaime continued to drink the strong, hot coffee – trying to sort through his jumbled memories when Oberyn interrupted his thoughts.

‘Dude, did you sleep in Brienne’s room?’

For a moment Jaime worried that he had made a horrible, drunken mistake. He would remember sleeping with someone no matter how drunk he was. _Wouldn’t he? Was Brienne the lady giant?_

Oberyn continued, ‘I came out for some water and saw Brienne hanging off the couch, poor girl. How did you guys end up bed swapping?’

Jaime found it odd hearing Oberyn refer to Brienne as a _girl_ ; someone of her stature could only be described as a woman – nothing about her was _girly_ from what he had seen. ‘I’ll let you know when I remember.’ Jaime deadpanned. At this point he honestly couldn’t recall what had caused him to enter her room, let alone spend the night in there and force her out onto the small couch.

Jaime downed the dregs of his coffee, clapped Oberyn on the back and made his escape before anyone else appeared in the small kitchen. He was desperate for a couple more hours sleep, a scolding hot shower and then another round of drinks.

* * *

 

Jaime had showered and forced himself to eat some toast and then he fell asleep.

He dreamt of an empty room. Everyone had left him. He was alone, but he didn’t feel lonely – he felt safe and secure; it felt like _home_. But this wasn’t Casterly Rock and though the room was bare it felt warm and inviting. Suddenly, as Jaime woke, sparkling blue eyes found him in his isolation. He tried to see the face they belonged to but it was too late... he was already awake.

He blinked a few times and scrubbed his hands over his tired face. He was hot and sticky from his deep sleep and because of his vague dream, so he stripped off once again and took a decidedly cooler shower than before.

When he was done he put on fresh clothes and left to go to his regular liquor store. In truth, he knew he shouldn’t drink; knew it looked pathetic and he hated how he acted when he was drunk. Granted, he was usually fairly arrogant when sober, but alcohol always bought out the worst in him; highlighting his worst traits. Jaime strode past the large window displaying all sorts of alcoholic goodness; paused when the store worker caught his attention through the window – silently judging him.

And so, Jaime altered his path and carried on past the store front. He knew there was another shop just a few roads away; his feet padded along whilst the crisp, fresh air cleared his head. He thought of his strange dream... he didn't even know anyone with blue eyes; his family all shared the same golden-green as he did, Oberyn's were an intense almond colour. Frankly there wasn't anyone else - at least no-one he knew well enough to remember the colour of their eyes.

Jaime paused, waiting to cross the street when he saw a familiar hulking figure squeezed behind a small table in the coffee shop across the road. A smile appeared on his lips. He crossed the street and went into the shop; momentarily forgetting about his search for alcohol.

She was alone, her knees bent awkwardly to allow her frame to fit behind the table. Jaime slowly made his way over to her. _What was her name?_ He couldn't remember...

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> second meeting.... hope y'all don't mind the quick update... enjoy :) -X-

 

* * *

 

Jaime slowly made his way to her. She was alone, her fingers tapping nervously on the table top. Was she waiting for someone? A date perhaps? _No,_ Jaime thought, _that didn't seem likely_. 

 

When he was only a couple of steps away she finally looked up; their eyes barely met before she looked away. She looked… pissed - _again!_  Maybe he'd done something the night before to provoke her animosity – or maybe she just always wore that sour look on her plain face.

 

Jaime straightened his posture; a smile crept onto his lips as he approached the table. He slowly pulled out the vacant chair opposite the large, sullen woman - he made sure that the legs scrapped loudly across the laminated flooring. She huffed in annoyance. 

 

'All alone…' _Shit, what was her bloody name!?_  '…Wench?' _Seems to fit,_ he thought wryly.

 

'My name is Brienne!' She snarled at him, saving him from admitting that he could not recall her name. Her eyes met his; they were filled with irritation and loathing and… they were the most brilliant Sapphire colour he had ever seen. Jaime was caught short, he knew he was staring now and that she was squirming under his scrutiny; those eyes, _her_ eyes - they were the ones from his dream. _What did that mean?_

 

'What are you doing here Lannister?' She mumbled, blushing horribly at his direct stare.

 

Jaime gathered himself - finally tore his gaze away from her vivid eyes - he plucked up a wooden stirrer and placed it between his perfectly white teeth. 'I'm looking for hookers and alcohol… this seemed like the perfect place.' He said dryly, gesturing at the quiet coffee shop/book store. Brienne's brows furrowed impossibly deeper across her forehead. Jaime sighed, remembering the real reason he had come into the store. 'I wanted to apologise.' His voice was sincere now, a rarity for him nowadays. 

 

'For what?' She mumbled, still refusing to meet his gaze directly; her eyes and hands tracing the scars that adorned the wooden table top.

 

'For whatever I did that has so royally pissed you off.' Jaime said, anger inexplicably rising in his voice.

 

Brienne looked at him then; blue vs green. Her eyes narrowed. 'You don't even remember what you did, do you?' Jaime knew his drinking was becoming a problem and that it was dangerous to let it get so out of hand.

 

He pieced together what he could from his own jumbled memories and from Oberyn's small input. 'I know that I was drunk,' She rolled her eyes - _ok, so that was no secret,_  'I know that we somehow swapped beds and that you were utterly irritated with me but made me coffee anyway. Gods, I don't even know what bought me into your room in the first place.'

 

'Your dick.' Brienne grumbled.

 

Jaime laughed - out loud. 'Sorry Wench, I didn't quite get that - did you say _your dick_ or _you're a dick_.'

 

'Both.' She said, a hint of a smile played at her lips, tugging at a scar on the corner of her top lip.

 

'I didn't try to fuck you did I?'

 

She scowled at his foul language. 'As if.' She fidgeted in her seat. 'You were looking for the loo and found me instead.'

 

Jaime nodded vaguely, half-remembering events. 'Do you know how I got this?' He asked, pointing to the faint blue-purple bruise on his jaw. Brienne flushed.

 

'I guess, I er… need to apologise too.'

 

Jaime's eyes widened in surprise. 'You _hit_ me?' 

 

'It was an accident. You caught me by surprise and… it was a reflex.' She shrugged.

 

'Not bad.' Jaime said with admiration.

 

They sat, at a stalemate for a moment. Neither having much else to say.

 

'A-hem.' Somebody obnoxiously cleared their throat behind Jaime, he turned, glaring at the person that interrupted them. He was tall - not as tall as Jaime - but tall, his hair and eyes were a dull brown and his had a half-grown beard that didn't suit his face at all.

 

'Brienne, didn't we have an appointment?' The man completely skipped over Jaime's presence and addressed Brienne instead.

 

'Yes Hyle. Jaime was just leaving.' That was the first time he recalled her using his first name. 'Isn't that right Jaime.' He liked the sound of it on her tongue he decided.

 

He took the less than subtle hint and pushed back from the table, legs scraping obnoxiously again. 'Sure thing. See you soon Wench.' He winked. He had no intention of seeing her ever again to be honest. But he got a kick out of the way her face turned tomato red as he brushed past her and back out into the chilly fall air. 

 

Jaime pulled his jacket further up around his neck to keep out some of the autumn chill. He looked back inside to see 'Hyle' lowering himself into the spot that Jaime previously occupied. He didn't like the look of the man - too pretentious. Jaime tore his eyes from the scene playing out before him. He trundled up the street, heading for the liquor store; when he got there however, he was decidedly not in the mood for alcohol. Instead his feet carried him past the shop and over into the local park for a long, mind-clearing walk.

 

For the first time in a long time Jaime felt... good. Not great, but good about his life. He suspected that this feeling would not last and he would be wasted again within 24 hours. But, he thought, he might just surprise himself (and everyone around him) and stay sober for a little while.

 

* * *

 

A couple of weeks passed before Jaime and Brienne met again. Both had unconsciously been thinking of the other, though they’d never admit it to anyone and miraculously Jaime had stayed sober the whole time.

 

He had avoided the liquor store the day he saw her in the coffee shop and gone for a long walk; he spent half the day wandering the city. Imagining a world without Cersei and what his life would be like now; he convinced himself that the loss of his whoring cousin would _not_ ruin him. He was strong – he could survive this... _couldn’t he?_

 

Brienne had been working hard, long hours, hoping to get ahead in her job. She was eager to learn and loved the work she was doing. Whenever she would least expect it Jaime’s easy smile and playful wink would creep into her mind when she was working late. He had been an ass to her and nothing short of rude to her _and_ Margaery; but then he’d apologised – kind of – and he’d actually appeared sincere.

* * *

 

 

‘So, who’s coming to your party, man?’ Jaime asked Oberyn, talking around the handful of peanuts he had just rammed into his mouth.

 

‘Jai, I’ve told you to stop eating all of the Gods Damned food!’ Oberyn slapped Jaime’s hand away as he reached for a pretzel. ‘The Hound, Tyrion, that new kid from the gym – Gendry; Margaery, of course, and she’s bringing some friends too.’ Oberyn picked up another crate of beers to empty into the gigantic ice bucket.

 

Jaime nodded, ‘Cool, cool... is Big Brienne coming?’ He asked.

 

‘I expect so – she is one of Margaery’s best friends. And don’t call her that.’ Oberyn emphasised his point by throwing an ice cube at Jaime’s ridiculously blonde head. ‘She’s actually pretty cool – she works out, like properly, and she’s seen all the good movies... Marg usually only goes for Chick Flicks. And she’s been working super hard so she could do with a  break.’ Jaime looked for any humour in Oberyn’s voice, found none.

 

‘Seven Hells, you sound like you wanna fuck her.’ He sniggered at his friend. Oberyn tilted his head, considering it.

 

‘You know what, I wouldn’t say no.’ Jaime raised his eyebrows waiting for the punch line. ‘I’m serious; she’s fit, she’s tall, her skin looks smooth and pale. Honestly... I’d rather have a threesome with her _and_ Marg – but I don’t think that’s her style and Brienne would glow brighter than a red traffic light if I asked her.’

 

For a moment Jaime couldn’t believe what his friend was telling him. But the more he thought on it the more he could see Oberyn’s point. Brienne did have nice skin he guessed... didn’t he see a smattering of freckles across her broad nose and cheeks. Of course she was tall - that was impossible to miss. As to whether or not she was fit... she wore too many clothes for him to accurately assess that. Maybe she'd be wearing less tonight and he could check it out. Jaime shook his head. _What was wrong with him?_ Like he cared what the wench would be wearing. He grabbed some beers and helped Oberyn to finish setting up.

 

* * *

 

'Margaery,' Brienne whined. 'Do I really have to go?'

 

'Yes! Oberyn invited you and I don't want to be left alone with all of his friends all evening.' Margaery was riffling through her wardrobe for a dress to wear.

 

'Aren't Sansa and Arya going too?' Brienne asked.

 

'Yes, and Danaerys might drop by later... but I want _you_ there Brie, Oberyn does too; besides, you need a break from all the work you've been doing.' Margaery fixed her with a 'no arguments' stare.

 

'Fine.' Brienne sighed, She sloped off to her room to change out of her sweat pants. _I wonder if Lannister will be there?_

 

Brienne laughed at her own idiocy; Jaime Lannister was arrogant and a drunk... and gorgeous and sexy. She sighed - there was nothing wrong with having a small crush on the best looking man in the city, so long as she kept reminding herself that it _was_ just a crush. She didn't even know him, but that didn't mean she couldn't admire his physical attributes. He had looked monumentally better at the coffee house than he had the night before; the clothes were clean and hugged his physique perfectly, his golden hair had been brushed and he smelled enticing as supposed to a brewery. Even the way he held himself had been worlds away from the night before - he had walked in standing tall and confident. She thought it odd how he could be half a God and half a corpse within the space of a few hours.

* * *

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things progress.... a little ;P -X-

 

* * *

Jaime spotted Brienne the moment she entered the room. It's not like he was looking out for her or anything - it's just that she's so freaking tall she'd be hard to miss. Jaime took a moment to observe her, ignoring the completely un-interesting girl that was trying to chat him up. Brienne wore tight blue jeans with a form hugging sweater that bought out her eyes. She looked uneasy; only engaging with Margaery and then with Oberyn to wish him a Happy Nameday. Jaime watched her grab a beer and linger (alone) in the kitchen - she didn't want to be here. They had that in common. Jaime was just better at hiding it.  
   
Though Jaime was dealing with the Cersei situation - and he wanted his friend to have a good birthday - he wasn't in the partying mood. Also, it was harder to resist alcohol when everyone around you was having a merry time getting smashed  
 

* * *

  
   
   
Brienne saw Jaime out of the corner of her eye; there was some pretty girl draping herself over him. By the Gods he looked good tonight. He'd shaved off the longer beard he's sported before, leaving a couple of days worth of stubble layering his jaw. Jaime wore a crisp, fitted white shirt and a pair of dark khakis. Brienne fiddled with the cap on her beer bottle, wishing she could leave already.   
   
She moved from the kitchen to the adjoining room hoping she would be able to hide for a while before making her excuses to leave - most of the other guests were in the garden by the pool or in the lounge.  
 

* * *

  
   
   
Jaime  followed Brienne - shaking off the annoying woman who wouldn't take a hint. She'd escaped into Oberyn's study; which was probably the quietest room in the house this evening.

 

He snuck in quietly - Brienne was folded into the corner of the couch. He dropped onto the couch next to her where she was taking a small sip of beer. Her eyes flickered to him but didn't meet his own. She shifted even further into the corner of the small piece of furniture - well, it was small with the two of them sharing it. Jaime rolled his eyes at her and shifted closer. 'Don't worry, I'm not interested.' He drawled. 'You're not my type.' Brienne snorted at that. He was sure she muttered a  _Duh!_  under her breath.

 

Jaime led his arm out across the back of the sofa, his fingers were inches away from her brittle, yellow hair. Suddenly they itched to touch it and see if it was as dry as it looked. Brienne looked at him then. Her eyes trying to gauge something. 'I swear to the Old Gods and the New, if you're drunk again Lannister…'

 

'Relax.' Jaime blew her off. 'I've been teetotal for fifteen and a half days now.' He beamed then, genuinely please with himself.

 

'Seriously?' The surprise that shone in her brilliant blue eyes was outstanding… and a little insulting.

 

'My body is my temple.' He quipped, glancing down at his toned, bronzed chest that was peeking through the open buttons at the top of his shirt. A raspberry rash rushed over Brienne's face as she took another swig of beer. Jaime drank some of his own non-alcoholic beer - it was disgusting, so he set it aside.

 

'So… how was your date?' Jaime said to break the silence.

 

Genuine confusion passed over the Wench's face, 'What date…' Then she remembered their last meeting; her face turned to stone. 'That was  _not_  a date.' Her teeth were clenched and Jaime could see the muscles contracting in her jaw.  _Definitely_  not a date.

 

'Good. That guy was a weasel.'

 

'You didn't even speak to him!' Brienne said.

 

'Didn't need to.' Jaime countered. 'Besides, if your reaction is anything to go by he must be a prick.' She frowned at his colourful language. 'A bigger prick than me even.' He said to remove the gargoyle-esque expression that contorted her face.

 

To his delight she did smile a little and her eyebrows returned to their normal spot on her face. 'So if this guy is such an asshole why were you having coffee with him?'

 

Brienne sighed; why did he even care? But it was passing the time and she didn't want to go back out into the throng of people in the house. So she answered his question. 'It was for work - Hyle works at the Publishing House that I have an internship at… and I used to know him, back home.'

 

'Which Publishing House?' Jaime asked. She was glad he skipped over any more questions about Hyle Hunt.

 

'S&L Alliance.' Brienne said, a shy, proud smile on her lips.

 

Jaime almost choked on his own tongue. 

 

'Are you ok?' She asked, he was surprised to hear a hint of concern in her voice.

 

"Fine… fine - just that beer-free beer making a reappearance.' Jaime lied. S&L Alliance was  _his_ Publishing House. Well, he was a part-owner. A  _silent_  part-owner.

 

Jaime quickly recovered, he was impressed; she seemed young to have an internship at one of the top Publishing Houses in the city - the country even.

 

'That's impressive - getting a spot at one of the top companies in the city.' Brienne blushed at his praise. 'How'd you manage it? Family ties? This  _Hyle_  fellow?' Jaime teased.

 

Brienne's face once again turned to thunder. ' _Hyle Hunt_  had absolutely nothing to do with me earning my position at the company.' She spat his name Jaime noticed - there was some history there. 'I  _worked_  to get where I am; I worked my way through school and college and I studied every spare moment I had - I  _had_  to.' The Wench had turned to him, fury rising in her voice the longer she spoke. Her eyes were burning and Jaime did not miss her subtle suggesting that he was a trust-fund baby. 

 

He wasn't surprised - everyone knew the Lannisters were loaded. What most people  _didn't_ know was that he had been cut off by his father years ago; but he had saved some money and invested it wisely in a few small business ventures and finally put all of his money into S&L Alliance with the Starks - on the condition that his name was never used and that he remained a silent partner. He preferred to keep his anonymity. Eddard and Catelyn seemed happy enough with the offer - a hefty cash injection without an interfering presence at the office. Jaime had monthly updates and oversaw important decisions; but he didn't get involved in the day-to-day runnings of the office. Catelyn had been pushing him to interact more within the company since the premature death of her husband. Eddard had barley passed middle-aged when he suffered a massive heart attack. 

 

Jaime narrowed his eyes at the angry woman before him. 'What's your history with this Hunt chap?' He switched tracks on her, ignoring her anger and speaking amiably. She looked momentarily lost at his change in direction, her mouth hanging open and no retort in her arsenal to throw back at him.

 

In the end she didn't need a retort. The door to the study swung open and connected heavily with the bookshelf behind it. Brienne almost jumped out of her seat at the interruption. Jaime looked over his shoulder to see who had come barging in.

 

A pretty young thing was giggling and trying to stand up straight whilst her companion held her waist. Once he was certain she would not fall he turned to face the room. Jaime knew the face well.

 

'Sorry Bro, didn't know this room was occupied.' Tyrion Lannister clicked his teeth and winked several times in the direction of his older brother. Who - from everyone else's perspective - very much looked like he had his arm draped around the blonde amazonian beside him.

 

Brienne's neck flushed at the insinuation and rocketed up from her seat. 'We weren't… we… I... I have to go.' She escaped hastily from the room. 

 

Jaime laughed at his drunk little brother and how his face fell when he realised that they really weren't doing anything other than talking. He'd give anything for his big brother to find a nice girl - he'd known about his  _complicated_  relationship with their cousin for years. Tyrion and Cersei had never gotten along - Cersei preferred perfection whilst Tyrion had an affinity for broken things. 

 

Jaime made his way to the door. 'Have fun Tyrion.' He whispered as he passed and closed the door firmly behind him. His eyes made a quick scan of the room, looking for a tall blonde. He saw the sleeve of her sweater as she slipped out of the front door and into the night. Jaime was oddly disappointed that she'd left. He shrugged. A few more minutes of small talk and he would make his excuses also.

 

 

* * *

 

 

By mid-week Jaime had almost caught up on the most recent developments at S&L Alliance. Catelyn had sent over the most recent contracts and deals that were in motion. She'd also included the staff manifest that Jaime had requested. His eyes scanned the pages for a name… they tripped over a familiar person…  _Hyle Hunt_  - even his name was awful. He kept going and finally found what he'd been looking for; Brienne Tarth, Editorial Assistant (Internship).

 

For some reason the thought of seeing the awkward, blushing aurochs again bought a smile to Jaime's face.  _This could be fun_ , he thought. It was just  _so_  easy to push her buttons without even trying. The thought of the look on her face when she saw him in the office was enough to make him chuckle quietly as he pulled his smartest suit out of the closet. Though he told himself that he wasn't really bothered; he wanted to make a good impression with the staff  _and_  prove to Catelyn that he was taking this seriously. With the hole in his life left by Cersei he figured it would be a good time to through himself into his work.

 

* * *


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Work meeting....

* * *

 

 

Robb had left hours ago to attend a meeting - leaving Brienne sprawled out on his office floor, ploughing her way through boxes of files. She had discarded her suit jacket and shoes a half hour ago, most of the office would have clocked out by now so she wasn't so worried about maintaining her appearance. She hated her work clothes - nothing ever seemed to fit her properly… maybe should would have to succumb to Margaery's pestering and go out shopping with her, the girl did seem to have a knack at finding clothes that suited Brienne's size and style.

 

A few hours later and Brienne was beginning to pack away the boxes that were ready to go into storage. She was bending down to get the last box when she heard the office door open - she assumed it was the cleaners, they often found her working late.

 

'Either I'm suddenly attracted to men or that's _not_ Robb Stark's arse.' A familiar voice echoed around the empty office. A voice that did not belong here. Brienne snapped up and turned to face the owner of the voice. The tips of her ears burned. 

 

Jaime Lannister stood in the doorway in all his Godly glory; his expensive suit was cut perfectly to highlight his broad shoulders and slender hips. His olive green tie was askew, the knot pulled down to mid-chest and the top button of his shirt had been popped open. He looked tired, but he still looked beautiful - whereas Brienne looked like shit.

 

'Why are you here?' She hissed, her posture nervous; as if she would be in trouble if anyone spotted him here. 'You can't be here.'

 

Jaime shrugged, 'I was in the neighbourhood.' He entered the office, running his hand along the front of Robb's large mahogany desk. 

 

'I'm serious Jaime. How did you even get in here? There's security…'

 

'Why are you here so late? You must be the last person in the whole building.' Jaime questioned. 

 

Brienne's ire rose, 'I'm working. I wanted to help-'

 

'You are an oddity.' Jaime stated, interrupting her.

 

Brienne huffed. 'If you're done insulting me, I have to leave.' She grabbed her jacket and shoes, not even bothering to put them on. She was half way to the door when Jaime blocked her path. _Gods, what did he want?_

 

* * *

 

 

_Gods, why was she in such a rush to leave… again!_ Jaime had been more than surprised to find Brienne in Robb Stark's office. He'd been kept busy all day and hadn't spotted his tall friend (was she his friend now?) anywhere. Jaime had been on his way out of the building when he saw the office light on; he thought he'd pop his head in to say hello to the eldest Stark son. The Lannisters and the Starks did not have a good history. Jaime's father had made ruthless business decisions in the past that affected the Starks both publicly and personally; he hoped they wouldn't hold it against _him_. He was not his father.

 

Jaime blocked Brienne's path before she could flee. She looked confused and irritated and so _very_ tired.

 

'Ever wonder what the 'L' stands for in S&L Alliance?' He said conversationally, his voice indifferent.

 

Brienne scowled at him, 'It's Eddard and Catelyn's partner… no-one knows who it is. Apparently they wanted to remain anonymous. Why are you asking? Can I please just go home?' She sounded so feeble that Jaime almost laughed. If it weren't for the exhausted look on her face and the dark circles under her eyes he probably would have.

 

Instead, Jaime stood before her, an eyebrow arched and an expectant look on his face. He waited. And waited. He thought he might have to spell it out for her.  _Finally_ understanding dawned on her freckled face. Her mouth dropped open, her eyes were wide with disbelief. 

 

'You are not the' L' - that's just… preposterous. I…' She was literally lost for words. Jaime shook his head, bemused.

 

Jaime took pity on her. 'Come, Wench. I think it's time to go home. We'll talk tomorrow.' They walked side by side down to the lobby, Brienne still holding her shoes and jacket limply at her side. Jaime removed his tie entirely, stuffing it into his pocket - he always did hate ties.

 

Jaime and Brienne parted ways under the street lights outside the building. 

 

* * *

 

 

Friday morning came far too quickly for Brienne's liking. She couldn't get her head around that fact that Jaime Lannister was working at her company. Hell, he _was_ her company! She had thought that perhaps he had been joking but that just seemed absurd - he’d been allowed into the building after all and though his family were well known and had a lot of money she didn’t think the security guards could be bribed so easily. She just couldn't understand why he was suddenly showing an interest in the company now. The business had been established for years and it was always a topic of conversation among the staff to guess what the 'L' stood for in the company name.

 

Brienne rushed up to her small office. Paranoid that Jaime would jump out at her from behind a corner somewhere. It had been so surreal to see him here the night before - in her work place, looking smart and sexy. She immersed herself in her work and before she knew it Catelyn Stark was ordering her to go to lunch and requested her presence in her 24th floor office afterwards.

 

Brienne rushed through her lunch and tried to make herself look presentable before going to see her boss. She knew it was impossible… knew Catelyn didn't care about appearances so much as work ethic, but Brienne still made the effort to try.

 

Catelyn's secretary buzzed her through shortly after she arrived. Brienne stopped in her tracks when she saw that Catelyn wasn't alone. Jaime was there. 

 

'Brienne,' her boss greeted her warmly. 'Thank you for arriving so promptly. I'm sure you've heard the office gossip but I'd like to introduce you to the co-owner of S&L - Mr Jaime Lannister.' Catelyn gestured to Jaime. Jaime grinned, extending his hand to Brienne. Did she have to call him _Mr Lannister_ now? 

 

She took his hand, not wanting to appear impolite in front of Catelyn. It was warm and solid and Jaime's grip was firm.

 

'Brienne and I are actually already acquainted.' Jaime said smoothly. A wary look passed over Catelyn's face, a worried mother's look. Brienne did not remember her own mother; she'd died when Brienne was very young.

 

'Well,' The Stark patriarch recovered herself. 'That should make this all the easier.' She said jovially. It sounded a little forced to Brienne's ears. Jaime's grin widened. 

 

'Brienne, you've been so helpful and organised helping Robb these last few days… I'd like you to help get Mr Lannister up to speed and help get him settled in.'

 

Brienne's hand was still wrapped in Jaime's - she pulled it back when he dared to wink at her, luckily Catelyn was too busy retrieving some files from her desk to notice. 

 

'Miss Tarth, how about I give you the afternoon to wrap up any projects you are currently working on and we get down to business first thing Monday morning?' Jaime was all business, but there was a hint of something else in the undercurrent of his voice.

 

'Yes Sir.' Brienne said trying to remain in work mode. But the flash in Jaime's eyes had her turning on her heels and fleeing before he could comment. 

 

_Gods this is going to be awful_ , she thought. _Then why are you so excited?_ A traitorous voice whispered in the back of her mind.

 

* * *

 

Jaime spent most of his weekend with Tyrion and Oberyn. He felt restless and anxious - he'd barely eaten and couldn't concentrate. He was just excited about the job - it felt good to be a part of the company that bared his name.

 

His thoughts wandered to Brienne intermittently - he wasn't sure why but he couldn't forget the way she had called him 'Sir' - he'd found it… _sexy_. 

 

_Gods I need to get laid_ , he thought. Of course, he could easily get laid if he wanted to - but he couldn't find it in himself to go out to a bar and pick up a random girl.

 

He was just amped about sinking his teeth into S&L Alliance - what else could it be?

* * *


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For ikkiM... who wanted an update - here you go... enjoy ;P -X-

* * *

 

Monday morning came and went. Brienne had helped Jaime settle in at work all week. She could not believe that he hadn't told her that he was the co-owner of _her_ Publishing House… well, _his_ Publishing House. Though, she supposed, nobody knew _that_ \- so why should she.

 

Even though Jaime threw snide comments and cutting remarks around the office Brienne was pleasantly surprised to find that Jaime Lannister had a strong work ethic and was actually very good at his job. He and Brienne were often the last people left at the office as night-time began to fall. And for all of the _uptight’s_ and _wench’s_ and _have a little fun’s_ that he hurled her way at work; Jaime also praised her efforts to Catelyn. Causing her to flush a hideous scarlet when Mrs Stark told her.

 

After Jaime's introductory week had passed Brienne seemed to become his unofficial PA. He would often request her assistance - which of course Catelyn Stark approved - and Brienne could hardly say no to _both_ of her bosses. And the work experience was invaluable to her. She tried to tell herself that that's all it was. Though she knew it was crazy, Brienne still couldn't shake her silly crush on Jaime. Of course he would never look at her twice - except maybe to check whether she was a man or a woman. Add to that the fact that he used to date Cersei, (whom Margaery had shown Brienne a picture of) Jaime's cousin was beyond beautiful - much like the man himself; if Brienne didn't know better she would say they were twins. Jaime really would never consider  girl like her when he'd known a stunning woman like that.

 

* * *

 

They had been working together for a few weeks before Jaime managed to get her to go for a drink with him after work.

 

Sometimes they would not see each other for a few days - both too busy with their own workload. Other days - like this day - they would be cooped up in Jaime's office; files and boxes littering the floor and desk. They hadn't even stopped for lunch; instead they'd gotten stale sandwiches from the vending machine. Jaime wasn't convinced that they were as 'fresh' as the box stated. Nevertheless he and Brienne both ate heartily, if not satisfactorily.

 

'Wench, you're coming for a drink with me." Jaime stated firmly, though a smile tugged at his lips.

 

'Are you back on the booze?' Brienne said sarcastically, being playful with him for once.

 

She knew very well that Jaime hadn't touched a drop of alcohol since the night they met. Over the weeks of working together they had gotten to know one another. They were work colleagues verging on the edge of friendship.

 

Jaime had told her how Tyrion - his little brother - was the only real family left to him. That his father was cold and distant and how his mother had passed away when he was a young boy. Brienne was shocked that they had that in common so she entrusted to him the tale of her mother's long battle with sickness and her eventual death. At Jaime's request Brienne had described her mother and her home to him. Tarth's blue waters, green hills and waterfalls were a world away from his childhood home at Casterly Rock - at least that's what he told her.

 

'How about a coffee place then?' Jaime's eyes crinkled with amusement. 'I know that's your “go-to” place for dates. He got the reaction he was looking for.

 

'You know damn well, that wasn't a date. Hyle Hunt is nothing more than a-'

 

'Cunt.' Jaime grinned, eyebrows raised - daring her to disagree. He had seen Hunt a few times around the office; always leering at the female staff and his work was poor - he just covered it up with a lot of ass kissing. Brienne's cheeks pinkened at his derogatory remark.

 

'I was going to say _work colleague_.'

 

'Ah, but you don't deny my assessment either.' He had her there. It was no secret that she and Hunt did not get along. 

 

Brienne felt a smile threatening to break out on her broad, homely face. She bit on her lower lip to stop herself. Jaime's golden-green eyes seemed to be drawn to her mouth by the action. Brienne looked away; grabbed her jacket hastily and made to leave, only to pause in his doorway. 'Are you coming? I need a beer.' She didn't even turn to face him but Jaime happily grabbed his things and followed her out into the night.

 

They chose a place close to Brienne's apartment, seeing as how Jaime would remain completely sober and therefore more than capable of making his way home in one piece.

 

* * *

 

 

'So... what's the story with you and Hunt?' Jaime asked, taking a sip of soda to stop his mouth from going dry.

 

'There's no story. He's just a tosser.' Brienne sounded sad and tired and Jaime knew she wouldn't even be talking to him about this if she hadn't already had a couple of beers. So he prodded her again.

 

'Come on… I know that you two have a history.' Brienne eyed him carefully. She took a long pull of her beer and then sighed as if the weight of the truth were too much to bear. After downing the last mouthful of beer she began; her eyes stayed fixed on the dirty table top of their booth while her long, dextrous fingers played with the peeling label on the bottle.

 

'We went to college together… some of the swim team made a bet… Hyle was nice to me... thought he could win.' Brienne took deep breathes between her sentences, the words too painful to unleash all at once. 'The bet was to see who could take my virginity first.' She mumbled, ending the sorry story.

 

Brienne had expected Jaime to laugh; to tell her to grow up, get a sense of humour and get over it. But he didn’t. When the silence became too much she looked up, expecting to see mirth or perhaps pity. What she saw instead was Jaime, silently fuming. She could see it in his clenched fists and the tension in his shoulders.

 

'I hope you damn-near drowned the insolent little prick for that.' He said through clenched teeth.

 

'No.' Brienne said calmly. Jaime looked disappointed. 'But I did punch him in the face.' A genuine smile bloomed on his face at that. He could imagine a young, plain Brienne being filled with joy at the prospect of friends… a boyfriend - only to have her faith  publicly shattered.

 

Jaime was sure his face was beaming with pride for her actions. ‘Well, Wench... I guess it’s only fair that I tell you my big, bad secret in return.’

 

Brienne averted her eyes. ‘I already know your secret.’ She whispered to the table. For a moment something dark and dreadful washed over Jaime. No-one knew about him and Cersei... except... except for Tyrion and Oberyn but they had both sworn never to tell. _Oberyn_ , Jaime thought. He’d told Margaery, of course he had – he’d sell out his own grandmother for the chance to get laid.

 

Jaime blanched at the thought of Brienne knowing – she must think him vile; how could she not. He cleared his throat, preparing to spout some asinine excuse or barbed remark to save himself... to _protect_ himself from the unfair judgement of others.

 

But when Brienne looked to him there was no disgust nor hatred, just her clear, vibrant eyes; _she does have astonishing eyes_ , he thought. Jaime breathed out, something like relief washing over him. And somehow he knew that she did not judge him.

 

‘ _Really?_... you know my deepest, darkest secret...’ He toyed with her. ‘...you know that I wear Batman pyjama’s to bed?’ Jaime finished, attempting to lighten the mood. A small grin passed over her lips – mission accomplished.

 

If Brienne wanted to know specifics she could ask. Part of him knew that she wouldn’t though. And – strangely - part of him wished she would. In the fairly short time that he’d known her, Jaime already knew that Brienne was not like most people. She wasn’t cruel or judgemental and though he was sure she had endured much and more scrutiny from her peers over the years, she did not let it break her kind, honest spirit. Jaime knew that she would not be ‘ok’ with his past relationship with his cousin – but he also knew that she would not condemn him for it. Heaven and Hell were just words.

 

Brienne snorted at Jaime’s joke – though something about the way he said it gave her the inkling that it was, in fact, true. She could not find it in herself to judge him about the Cersei situation – how could she? She had no idea what had transpired between them – that was Jaime’s personal business. And though it did not sit well with her, she found that she could not revile him for trying to find love. Besides, who was _she_ to judge? She’d never had a real relationship – at least not the all-consuming kind.

 

‘My round.’ Jaime said. He took the empty bottle from her hands, his fingers brushing hers ever so slightly. A small jolt of electricity went through Brienne – her innocent crush was getting out of hand. If Jaime noticed her face redden he had the courtesy not to mention it; probably blamed it on the alcohol.

 

They shared a few more drinks in the gloomy bar; the topic of conversation went from work to sports to movies and back again. Both were happy to talk about superfluous things – winding down for the weekend. Brienne let slip that her first love was unrequited – for a gay guy; and Jaime told her about how he spent most of his childhood hiding from his father’s retribution for some childish prank and how that had not changed in adulthood.

 

They decided to call it quits at 1:30am. Jaime insisted that he would walk Brienne home and Brienne insisted that she was more than capable of making the trip unsupervised. Nonetheless, he accompanied her; walking side by side. The fresh air cleared the alcohol induced fog from Brienne’s mind as Jaime pulled his scarf tighter around his neck. The streets were quiet and the dim light from the lampposts cast a hazy glow. When they reached her front door Brienne turned to him.

 

‘Goodnight Jaime.’ She paused a moment as if she was unsure of what to say or do next. ‘And thanks for the beers.’ She added.

 

‘Anytime. Sleep well.’ Jaime replied, holding her gaze for longer than was necessary. He felt unusually... free. Brienne’s cheeks were flushed, he guessed from the winter air whipping across them as they’d walked. And her eyes seemed to shine in the pale moonlight, probably due to the five beers she had drank – still... her eyes were magnificent.

 

They departed. Brienne to her dark, empty apartment and Jaime out into the night in search of a taxi.

 

* * *

 


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A short chapter.... next one should be up fairly quickly too ;P MUCH LOVE! -X-

* * *

 

Brienne was awoken by a light tapping on her door. Bleary eyed, she glanced at her bedside clock; 10:20am. Margaery pushed the door open gently and presented her with a cup of hot, creamy, sugary coffee.  

'Thank you.' Brienne muttered, her mouth tasted awful. She took a long gulp of the coffee. 'What time did you get back from Oberyn's?'  

'About half an hour ago. I needed a change of clothes and some stuff for the next few days; I'll be staying there if that's ok with you?' Margaery said, sitting down on the edge of Brienne's bed, Brienne nodded gingerly at her friend. 'Oberyn said to tell you, _'Thanks for nothing'_. Brienne looked at her friend confusedly; worried that she’d done something awful whilst she was a little tipsy the night before.  

'What did- ' She began, before her friend cut her off.  

'Relax sweety. He was just kidding.' Margaery placated; Brienne was already pale enough without her worrying that she'd actually upset Oberyn. 'Apparently Jaime text him late last night.'    

Brienne's face turned worried. 'About what?'  

'In his text he called Oberyn a 'Man-Whore' and a 'worthless traitor who deserved to have his eyes poked out'. ' Margaery said lightly.  

'Oh Gods,' Brienne groaned. 'I didn't mean to...' Brienne couldn't believe she'd told Jaime that she knew about him and his cousin... or at least implied it enough for him to figure it out. 

'Really Brie, it's fine. They were totally joking about it this morning.' Brienne straightened a little more then and drank some more coffee as Margaery settled onto the bed even further.  

' _So_... out for drinks with the boss - what was that like!?' Margaery asked like an excited school girl. Brienne rolled her eyes and then winced a little at the painful sensation.  

 

* * *

 

After avoiding most of Margaery’s invasive questions Brienne escaped into a hot shower. She stayed in there until the water ran cold. She dressed in comfortable clothes and tried to de-tangle her short hair.

She and Margaery arranged a late lunch with Danaerys; the girls – along with Catelyn Stark’s daughter, Sansa – had all gone to school together and had kept in touch all through college.

It was early evening when Brienne’s phone buzzed on her bedside dresser, alerting her that she had a text message. She frowned at the device – she hardly ever got text messages. Her father would always call and her friends (few as they may be) tended to email or use social media to get in touch.

Brienne picked up the phone, expecting a message from her service provider. Her frown deepened as she read the sender’s name _Jaime Lannister_ – they’d exchanged numbers for work reasons; though they had used them rarely. Jaime text her once to let her know he was stuck in traffic and would be late for a meeting and Brienne had text him a couple of time to remind him to bring in important paperwork that he tended to leave on his kitchen counter at home.

She wondered if it would be work related or something else; it was a Saturday evening after all – surely anything for work could wait until tomorrow.

She slid her finger across the screen to unlock her phone and opened the message.

_‘69’_

Brienne didn’t understand. Perhaps he meant to text someone else.

_‘?’_ She replied.

_‘That’s how many days I’ve been sober, Wench. Pay attention.’_

_‘My name is Brienne.’_ She sent back, her face creased with annoyance at the nickname

_‘Not according to my phone it isn’t ;-)’_

_‘How’s your head after last night?’_ He text her before she could reply to his earlier message.

_‘Fine.’_ Brienne replied, though she still winced slightly when she made any sharp movements. _This_ was why she never drank.

_‘Liar!’_ A smile formed on Brienne’s dry lips – Jaime was such a child sometimes.

 

* * *

 

Both Brienne and Jaime had been inundated with work for weeks – only exchanging a brief ‘hello’ and the occasional text or email. Usually it was just Jaime with his updated number for her _... 74... 82... 91... 124..._

It was a Saturday morning and for Brienne that meant an early morning run followed by a steamy shower and breakfast. She was perusing the nearly bare fridge and cupboards when her phone sounded.

She opened the text, _‘Fancy lunch?’_

Brienne balked at the invite, her stomach tied in knots and her teeth worried at her bottom lip.

Why was her boss asking her out to lunch at the weekend? Why was _Jaime Lannister_ asking her out to lunch at all?

* * *

 

 


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Date.... I hope it doesn't disappoint too much... MUCH LOVE PEEPS! -X-

* * *

 

 

He was sprawled out on his sofa flicking through the channels, he’d had breakfast and checked through his emails and now he had  _nothing_  to do. Unbidden, the Wench came to mind. He was fidgeting and restless so he turned off the TV and picked up his phone to occupy his hands.

He scrolled through his photos, music, videos – nothing interested him enough to stop scrolling. Finally he went to his texts. 

There were some from Tyrion – updates of his latest conquests. One or two from Catelyn Stark; business related, of course. A text from Oberyn saying that he wouldn’t be around this weekend. And then there were the texts he’d exchanged with the Wench – almost all work related except for the few he’d sent her with his updated numbers. Brienne had barely responded to his messages, usually just returning some mild-mannered praise – ‘ _That’s great’_ , ‘ _Well done’_ , ‘ _Congratulations_ ’. Though they weren’t much he appreciated them all the same.

Jaime’s finger hovered over the message button; they hadn’t really seen each other for ages -  a quick lunch before returning to their separate offices didn’t really count. He could text her. They were friends now, weren’t they?

Jaime hesitated momentarily before typing out a message. ‘ _Fancy lunch?_ ’ – concise and to the point, he hit send and waited for her reply. After a few minutes with no response Jaime scolded himself for constantly checking the screen of his phone for a new message. The Wench could be busy, or laying in – it was a Saturday for Gods’ sakes.

Twenty minutes after he’d hit send, he got a reply. One word.

‘ _Why?_ ’ Was all she wrote. Always suspicious.

‘ _150!_ ’ Jaime replied with a smile. He couldn’t believe he had known the Wench for five months already. It seemed like they had just met, though he knew about her he wasn’t sure the he really knew _her_.

Another one word reply came through. ‘ _Ok._ ’

‘ _Pick you up @ 12._ ’ He hit send and went for a shower and to change into something more than just his ratty sweatpants.

* * *

 

Jaime arrived at precisely 11:50am. He rang the buzzer for Brienne and Margaery’s apartment. Brienne was down the stairs and at his side in 3 minutes.

The car journey was quite and, for some reason, a little awkward. Brienne was a little worried when Jaime drove through High Garden – one of the wealthiest districts in town; she was dressed in a simple sweater and black jeans and didn’t think her converse would go with the classy decor in any of the restaurants in this area.

Soon they reached their destination and Brienne let out a sigh of relief when she saw where they would be eating. It was a small place, right on the coast. It looked quiet, friendly and welcoming and Brienne was so glad that Jaime had chosen this place rather than one of the more luxurious places in town.

 

* * *

 

‘So, no big plans this weekend?’ Jaime enquired once they were seated. Their table was outside on the decking, overlooking the water.

‘No.’ Brienne mumbled. She’d never had a busy social calendar.

‘Good.’ Jaime said with a smile. ‘You can help me celebrate.’

‘Why me? Don’t you have anyone else you could be celebrating with?’ It came out harsher than she intended. She’d only meant that  _surely_  he would prefer the company of his brother or one of his friends.

‘No, actually.’ Jaime said in a clipped tone. Brienne’s words had struck a nerve in him. He’d never had many friends – always too wrapped up in Cersei. Jaime noticed the regret in Brienne’s eyes – her clear blue eyes – and decided not to dwell on the matter.

‘Besides,’ He said more lightly, ‘you are kind of my un-official sponsor.’

Brienne laughed – an honest to Gods  _real_  laugh. Jaime hadn’t heard her laugh like that before. Usually she just snorted at his jokes or smiled whilst rolling her eyes at him. And though Brienne could never be called beautiful (with the exception of her exquisite eyes), Jaime thought it suited her; she looked carefree and happy. Jaime felt something in his chest warm at the thought that it was his doing.

‘I think you’d actually have to go to an AA meeting to have a sponsor.’ Brienne said, once she had calmed down.

Jaime shrugged. ‘Well, I wouldn’t say I was a full-blown alcoholic.’ Brienne gave him a pointed look. ‘Though I may have been heading that way.’ He admitted a little sheepishly.

They laughed and chatted; enjoying the food and drink. Before they knew it, it was late afternoon and they decided to call it a day. As Jaime drove Brienne home the sun began to set – casting Jaime in an even more ridiculously handsome golden glow. Brienne snorted at the unfairness of it; how one man could be so pretty yet rugged and sexy too.

‘What?’ Jaime asked; he’d caught her staring (and smiling) at him. Brienne’s face paled before it exploded into a harsh red blush that travelled across her cheeks and neck. She shifted in her seat, her gaze now pinned to the horizon – anywhere but his enquiring emerald eyes.

‘Nothing... I was... daydreaming.’ Brienne muttered, irritated and embarrassed at being caught.

‘About me?’ Jaime asked, his tone playful... but Brienne was sure that he actually sounded sincere for a moment... maybe even hopeful; there was a curios gleam in his eyes. But it was just her mind playing tricks on her.

‘No.’ The lie was unconvincing even to her own ears.

‘Liar.’ Jaime said the words so quietly that Brienne wasn’t even sure he had said them. Neither of them talked much after that.

Finally Jaime pulled up outside her apartment. The building looked dark and empty in the low lamp light. He cut the engine and sat in silence for a moment; his hands gripping the steering wheel.

‘Thank you for today.’ He said, his voice was thick with genuine gratitude.

Brienne swallowed around the lump forming in her throat. ‘You’re welcome.’ She croaked before she unbuckled herself and retreated hurriedly to the safety of her building.

What had started as a crush on ‘Mr Lannister’ and bloomed into her friendship with Jaime was becoming blurred and confused. Brienne could not help herself as she glanced back at Jaime before entering the building. He was still sitting in the same position; hands on the wheel and seemingly unfocused on anything. Then, as if he knew she was watching him, he looked up directly into her eyes. He was nothing more than a dark figure lurking in the shadows, only the bright glint of his emerald eyes identified him. The moment became suspended as dusk settled around them... foreboding and charged... a moment later he was driving away.

Brienne retreated inside.

* * *


	9. Chapter 9

* * *

 

Tyrion had been clicking his fingers underneath Jaime's nose for the last five minute. And Jaime had been pointedly ignoring him for the last five minutes.

Jaime and Tyrion had agreed to meet and catch up, they were sitting in his living room - but Jaime was currently too involved in the conversation he was having via text.

'Who is so important that you have to ignore your little brother?' Tyrion asked, interrupting his texting.

'No-one.' Jaime groused, annoyed at his brother's nosiness.

‘I’m serious – you haven’t eaten or drank a thing since I’ve been here.’ Tyrion said exasperated. ‘And I have been here quite a while.’ Tyrion was curious as to what had his brother undivided attention – it was unlike him not to offer his little brother a beer when he called in.

‘I’m not hungry. Or thirsty. But by all means help yourself.’ Jaime answered distractedly, motioning towards the kitchen but his eyes barely left the phone he had cradled in his hands.

'Is it a girl?' Tyrion asked, sounding pitifully hopeful.

'No.' Jaime muttered. 'It's… it's just… Brienne.' Jaime said, reluctantly placing the phone on his coffee table to prove his point.

'Forgive me brother, but isn't 'Brienne' a girl's name?' Tyrion was enjoying this far too much. Jaime slouched in his chair, ignoring his brother's taunts.

'You know what I mean… it's just; it's not like that ok.' Jaime phone buzzed signalling another text; he glanced at the phone but made no move to pick it up.

'You can answer that if you'd like.' Tyrion sniggered.

'Shut up Tyrion.' Jaime huffed. Jaime rearranged himself so that he was giving his brother his full attention - at least he made it look that way – his mind kept wandering back to the tall blonde that had transfixed him. 'So, how's work going?' He asked trying to steer the conversation into neutral territory.

'Really? That's the way we're going huh? Ok… There's a new girl at work - Tysha, smoking hot. I'm going to marry her one day…' Jaime let Tyrion talk as he thought over his ever changing relationship with Brienne.

He couldn't deny that _something_  had changed between them after their lunch together last weekend. The way her eyes had shone as she stared at him while a small smile lingered on her plump lips. He had wanted to bring her closer. To touch her, hug her… kiss her? He wasn't sure - but there was definitely something there that wasn't there before.

Jaime dared a glance at his phone whilst Tyrion was talking about his pretty little thing.

**_Wench:_ ** _I swear to the Gods if you bloody mention your '12 Steps' again I will kick your arse._

**_Me:_ ** _But your my official unofficial sponsor. You're supposed to support and help me in my times of need._

**_Wench:_ ** _You are a ridiculous human being Lannister._

**_Me:_ ** _Jaime. My name is Jaime :)_

**_Wench:_ ** _Are you really in any position to lecture someone on the use of their correct name????_

**_Me:_ ** _Alright, alright… calm down._

**_Me:_ ** _Wench._

Jaime couldn't help but smile as he hit send. He knew Tyrion was watching him even though he had moved on to talk about renovations to his apartment. Jaime couldn't help it - the joy he got from riling her up was unparalleled; he'd take her vehement responses over her one word replies any day.

Jaime needed to talk to somebody. But who? Certainly not Brienne herself. Oberyn had proved that he couldn't be trusted; he knew that Tyrion was his only shot. He'd kept the secret of Jaime and Cersei's relationship for years - he loved his brother, he was the only one who could help.

Brienne was no beauty, Jaime knew this; she had a masculine build, her teeth were crooked and she had a large scar across her freckled cheek. But she also had astonishing eyes - a gift from the Gods - and her legs went on forever. And she was loyal, kind, caring and hard-working; Jaime would take those traits over superficial appearance every time.

He took a breath. 'Ok, here it is…' The elder Lannister interrupted before Tyrion could say another word.

Jaime explained how he and Brienne had met, how he was too drunk to even remember his own name. He shared the story of seeing her at the coffee shop and finding out that she worked for his company. He told him how they would often work well together and had subsequently gotten to know each other pretty well and that they made a good team.

Tyrion nodded as he took in all of the details. after a few moments of consideration he spoke.

'Jaime, you are my big brother and I love you. But you're being an idiot. If you like this girl - even a little - you owe it to yourself to see where it goes. Not everything has to be life or death… just take the girl out and have some fun.'

After Tyrion left, Jaime lounged in his arm chair for a long time mulling over his brother's words. He toyed with his phone and eventually typed out a message… he read it over and over, just four words. _Eventually_ he hit send.

 

* * *

 

 

'Brienne, I know you like him, I'm just saying be careful. I don't want you to get hurt.' Brienne had confessed to Margaery that she was harbouring a crush on Jaime. She had assured her that it was nothing serious… that it was totally one sided and that they were just friends.

Brienne knew why Margaery feared for her feelings; Jaime didn't exactly ooze charm during their first meeting, and of course Margaery knew of his affair with Cersei. But she hadn't really had a chance to see how much Jaime had changed either.

In truth, Brienne had been a little worried that her 'crush' was getting out of hand; she'd had to stop herself from outright ogling him at the office one too many times.

Margaery was only concerned because she saw how happy Brienne got just from texting Jaime. She was often giggling quietly at the small screen on her phone.

'Margaery it's fine. For the two hundred and tenth time… we're just friends.' She smiled at her friend. As if Jaime Lannister would look twice at her in anything other than a friendly way. Even the fact that they were friends seemed like a stretch to her. But somehow it was true. She was friends with the most gorgeous man on the planet.

'Ok, sweetie. Just… look after yourself.' Margaery kissed her cheek lightly.

A short while later Oberyn came and picked up Margarey for their date and Brienne was left alone once again.

She looked at her phone; opened the message that she had received hours earlier but didn't dare to reply to. Brienne sighed, considering Jaime's text. She knew it would be foolish to say yes; it would only fuel her girlish infatuation. But he was her friend too… she didn't have many of those and she had to admit that she enjoyed his company.

Her teeth nibbled at her lower lip as she struggled to make a decision. Reading the short text again and again.

**_Lannister:_ ** _Come out with me._

**_Me:_ ** _Come pick me up._

 

* * *

 

 

 


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I must say thank you for all of the wonderful comments on this fic so far!!
> 
> You guys make my day! ;D
> 
> A little more action in this chapter.... enjoy... -X-

* * *

 

 

' _What_ are you doing?' Brienne asked; her nerves made her voice quiver. Jaime had picked her up half an hour ago, he text her and told her to dress casually (like she would dress any other way). She shifted her weight from one foot to the other and back again.

Jaime smiled at her mischievously. ' _We_  are going Go-Karting!.' Jaime exclaimed looking as pleased as punch at his idea. They were standing outside the centre - Jaime was eager to get inside and get started but Brienne was apprehensive.

'I don't know…' She hesitated. Jaime walked over to her so that they were eye to eye.

'Don't make me drag you in there Wench.' Jaime arched his golden eyebrow; daring her to refuse him. Brienne paused for a moment, knowing he would literally drag her in there if he needed to, a stubborn scowl set on her features. Finally she sighed in defeat and stomped off towards to entrance. Brienne was strapped into her tiny little go-kart, they'd endured the safety lecture - which Jaime had ignored most of to bate her into arguing about who was going to win between the two of them. She wasn't looking forward to this; she'd taken a few driving lessons when she was younger but then money had become tight so she’d quit. She was cramped and uncomfortable, the karts were made for children surely. They'd completed the circuit twice as a test run and now she and Jaime were lined up along with the other racers. The lights changed from red to orange to green and then it was go, go, go! After a few laps Brienne was sweating beneath her crash helmet; as she'd become more confident she had pushed the little kart faster and realised that it really flew around the track. The more laps that passed the more she found she was enjoying herself. Her arms were aching fiercely from holding the steering wheel in place through the corners; occasionally she would spot Jaime's red go-kart (usually ahead of her) - he waved at her on one lap as he ruthlessly overtook her.

* * *

 

Brienne smiled widely within the constraints of her helmet. Jaime was standing at the side of the track, kicking the small tyre of his kart as a marshal walked over to him. His engine had stalled. Brienne waved to him as she passed in her blue kart; Jaime looked like a grumpy teenager rather than a grown man.  It was the final lap so when Brienne crossed the finish line she handed back her helmet and waited for Jaime to return. Eventually he came rolling around the corner - rather slowly. His kart obviously needed some repairs but he finally crossed the line and his race was over. 'That was amazing!' Brienne greeted him as he removed his helmet. The smile on her face was almost enough to make up for his abysmal last lap. Jaime's hair was in disarray, the golden locks sticking out all over the place due to the sweaty confines of his crash helmet. It made him look even sexier in Brienne's eyes. She looked away as they returned their gear to the attendant. <BREAK> They stopped in a cafe on the way home. Jaime looked impressed when Brienne ordered a cheeseburger and fries accompanied by the biggest milkshake he'd ever seen.  'You did _not_ beat me.' Jaime said after they had both eaten half of their meals.

'I crossed the finish line before you.' Brienne challenged. She had seen Jaime being competitive before - at work… but this was just a game… it was just for fun.

'Please! I must have lapped you at least three times at the start.' Jaime pinched a french fry from her plate (even though he still had plenty); he dipped it into her vanilla milkshake and then popped it into his mouth. Brienne wrinkled her nose. 'Don't knock it until you've tried it Wench.' Jaime winked and laughed at her turned up nose. His perfect white teeth sparkled from behind his lips. 

Before Brienne could stop him, he grabbed another fry and dipped it into her shake - this time he held it out to her; an offering. Gingerly she took the french fry from him. Brienne chose to ignore the frisson of electricity that hummed through her veins as their fingers barely brushed. She popped the food into her mouth before she could reconsider… she was surprised to find that it was actually pretty good. Brienne was about to tell Jaime just that; but when she looked up the sight that met her eyes knocked her off course.

Jaime was sucking the melted ice-cream from his fingers - his eyes burning into hers. Brienne willed her face not to turn pink… knew it would already be glowing bright red.

Jaime bit his lip when he saw the wench's reaction; knew he shouldn't be playing games like this when he still wasn't sure what was happening between them. His masochistic tendencies had no place at this table… but he couldn't help himself. He always was a glutton for punishment.

Before sense kicked in Jaime reached out and picked up her shake. He used his tongue to manoeuvre the straw to his side of the glass and took a long sip.

'Not bad.' Brienne finally said - meaning the french fry/milkshake combination.

Jaime almost choked thinking - for a second - that she meant him.

 

* * *

 

Brienne wasn't sure how someone could make drinking a milkshake so Gods damned seductive… but Jaime Lannister was definitely managing it.

For a fleeting moment she thought that Jaime was doing it on purpose but, no, why would he? He didn't see her that way and there was no-one else around to impress or to laugh at her silly blushes. The man obviously just oozed sex appeal no matter what he was doing… whether it was filing papers or drinking a milkshake. For the millionth time Brienne was struck by how unfair it was that the Seven had blessed Jaime with so much and left so little for her.

Brienne knew that Jaime's past was troubled and complicated and filled with hurt - much like her own. But to pass through life being so devastatingly beautiful must have made it a little easier; whereas her plain, homely face did naught but add to the hurt.

Brienne tried not to stare for the remainder of their meal and Jaime seemed to behave himself too. That is, until it came time to drop Brienne home.

 

* * *

 

Jaime pulled into her street but, as they approached her building, he hesitated slightly before pulling away again. Brienne sat, dumfounded and when it became clear that Jaime would not offer an explanation, she spoke. ‘You missed it.’

Jaime looked at her with an expression of _‘Duh’_ on his face. ‘It’s too early to go home. Let’s do something.’ He said, as if it was no big deal. And it wasn’t – not really. They were friends.

‘A movie?’ Brienne suggested. Jaime looked at her for a moment before a large smile broke out across his face his eyes sparkled.

‘Now you’re talking.’ He said, spinning the car around in a U-turn and heading towards the cinema.

* * *

 

The movie they chose was a mindless action film. It wasn’t very good but it was great at subduing their brains. ‘That was awful.’ Brienne decreed as they walked to the car.

‘It really was.’ Jaime agreed; his shoulder bumping into hers. Brienne wasn’t sure whether it had been intentional or not – so she chose to ignore it. ‘The explosions were impressive though... and I saw you smiling at the end when the buff guy saved the damsel in distress.’ Jaime teased her. This time he definitely nudged her arm on purpose. Brienne’s face was hot from embarrassment. ‘I don’t blame you...’ he continued. ‘Us hero types are hard to resist.’

Brienne scoffed at him and an offended frown creased Jaime’s face. ‘What in the Seven Hells are you scoffing at?’ His voice was light and playful.

‘Nothing... I just imagine you more as the damsel in distress than the hero.’ Brienne’s eyes gleamed with amusement as she chewed on her lower lip. Jaime gaze followed her tongue as it swept out to soothe the swollen flesh of her lip.

Jaime considered her role reversal for a serious moment. ‘No,’ he shook his head. ‘It would never work... you’re not strong enough to carry me away into the sunset.’ He laughed as he finished.

‘Yes I am.’ Brienne said defiantly. It was true that she worked out and looked good for it... but he was a grown man – she could never lift him.

‘You are _not_ stronger than me.’ Jaime insisted. Brienne shrugged, refusing to agree with him. ‘Maybe one day we’ll get the chance to find out.’ Jaime murmured.

A group of drunken men approached them, hollering and shoving each other around. As they passed one of them knocked into Brienne.

‘Hey, watch it!’ Brienne shouted.

‘Fuck me! You’re a woman?’ The drunken little man slurred at her.

His face was inches away from Brienne’s; she could smell the alcohol on his breath as it swirled in the crisp air before her. Brienne blanched in humiliation – usually she took such comments in her stride; but having Jaime there, witnessing it, made it so much worse.

Brienne tried to push past the man but his taller, drunker friend prevented her by holding his arms out in front of her. ‘I’ll find out if she’s really a woman.’ He leered at her; he was just as drunk as his weasel friend but taller and definitely more threatening.

The man reached out a hand, as if to grab her. Before she could react, Jaime was there. He shoved the man’s hand away, putting himself between Brienne and the group of men. ‘What the fuck are you doing!?’ Jaime growled, his voice low and dangerous. He looked like an animal – a golden lion – defending her and poised to attack.

‘Relax pretty boy; you can have her back when we’re done.’ The taller man dribbled. Brienne was surprised he could actually talk, he was so drunk.

‘Guess you got all the good-looks in the relationship.’ Another man chimed in. Brienne could not understand why they were taunting Jaime. Yes, there were more of them and she was ‘just a woman’; but the look in Jaime’s eyes was deadly and his whole being exuded fury. They were fools.

The taller man that had tried to reach for Brienne took a step closer to Jaime; but before he could advance anymore Jaime landed a pre-emptive head butt to the man’s nose. The sound was brutal and Brienne winced as the man’s nose began to stream with blood.

Everything that happened next was a whirl of motion. The shorter man managed a cheap blow to Jaime’s head; Brienne managed to punch one in the face and knee another in the stomach. In the commotion Jaime had managed to push the smaller man to the ground.

He and Brienne looked at one another before jogging off down the dark street. They waited around the corner for a minute or two to make sure that no-one was following them.

‘Guess they’re too drunk to follow us.’ Brienne said, she was short of breath.

‘More like too stupid.’ Jaime added. His whole body was trembling from the adrenalin. It was only now that Brienne really looked at his face. His nose was bleeding and a small cut marred his cheek bone. ‘Is it broken?’ He asked her, noticing her gaze on his face.

‘I don’t think so; when I broke my nose it wouldn’t stop bleeding. Yours looks bruised... you’ll probably wake up with black eyes... this,’ she said, lifting her hand to gesture to the cut on his face. ‘Looks pretty bad.’

Jaime snatched her hand from the air. ‘You’re hurt.’ He said, he seemed upset. And he had every right to be – he’d just been in a punch up... because of her.

His hands were soft and warm as they examined her cut and bruised knuckles. Brienne couldn’t unite the fierceness that came from Jaime moments ago and the almost tender way that he held her injured hand now. ‘We should go.’ She said.

 

* * *

 

 


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We're getting there.... hope you guys like it.... :) the next chapter won't be long.... ;D -X-

* * *

 

They made it back to the car and then to Brienne’s apartment without incident. ‘You should come up.’ Brienne said as she opened the car door. ‘I have a first aid kit for that cut.’ She finished, slamming the car door behind her as she got out. Jaime followed her obediently.

He remembered her apartment well. It was small but welcoming, he liked it. ‘Want a beer?’ Brienne asked him as she withdrew one from the fridge for herself. Jaime quirked an eyebrow at her and his bruised face winced from the movement. ‘I think we both deserve one after that, Jaime.’ He liked the way she said his name.

‘Honestly, I’d rather have a strong coffee.’ Jaime knew that he was far from being a true alcoholic, but he felt better for having given it up. Brienne set about making his drink.

‘I can make it Irish if you’d like.’ Brienne said, placing a steaming mug in front of him.

‘Worst sponsor ever.’ Jaime grumbled with a smile. The two of them sat in silence for a long time, exchanging the odd glance; Brienne swigged her frosty beer and Jaime sipped at his strong black coffee. The timeout gave them a chance to calm down and process what had happened. They’d gotten off lightly, considering. If the men hadn’t been so drunk... or if Brienne had been walking alone... Jaime shuddered at the thought.

Brienne fetched her first aid kit from the bathroom; it was limited but it would suffice. She stood next to Jaime where he was seated on a stool, she cleaned his nose and cheek with a disinfectant wipe; it stung. Jaime turned to the side so that Brienne had better access to his cheek; she stood between his legs and tilted his head to the side. Her hands were surprisingly smooth and gentle as they applied steri-strips to the nasty cut. In-kind, Jaime took her large hand in his and cleaned away the dried blood. She flinched involuntary; Brienne couldn’t tell if it was from the stinging cuts on her knuckles or from the feel of Jaime’s caring hands on hers. It was odd for her to have someone treat her as delicate.

 

* * *

 

 

‘Are you sure you’re ok?’ Jaime asked. They were stood awkwardly by her front door. Jaime had run out of excuses to stay any longer.

‘I’m fine.’ Jaime gave her a disbelieving look. ‘ _Really._ ’ Brienne emphasised. They both shuffled their weight from one foot to the other. _Why were things so awkward all of a sudden?_

‘Ok.’ He seemed uncertain. ‘Just... call or text me if you need anything.’ Brienne nodded seriously. And gave him a little wave as her left. Before he left, Jaime turned to face Brienne – they were so close and he could see the tiredness in her eyes. His body leaned forward without his complete consent and he placed a feather-light kiss to the corner of Brienne’s mouth. Her skin was smooth and soft and she gasped when his lips brushed against her. Before either one of them could comment Jaime turned and left, whispering ‘Goodnight’ in a shaky voice.

 

* * *

 

 

Brienne felt sore and tired so she shuffled off to her bedroom, stripped out of her clothes and collapsed into bed, pulling the soft, warm duvet up to her neck.

An hour passed and Brienne still couldn’t sleep. She checked the display on her phone. _1:35am._ Her head was swimming with jumbled thoughts of Jaime and their strange evening.

She picked up the device and opened up her messages. Was it too late to text him? Jaime had only left an hour ago... and it was late... but he had told her to text him if she needed to.

**Brienne:** ‘Thank you... for looking out for me.’ For some unspoken reason she immediately felt better for having contacted him.

**Jaime:** ‘Can’t sleep?’ His response was immediate and just as Brienne was about to reply another text came through.

**Jaime:** ‘I’d never let anything happen to you.’ Brienne smiled at the statement.

**Brienne:** ‘I’m sorry you got hurt because of me.’

It took Jaime a moment to reply.

**Jaime:** ‘I’m strong enough to take it ;P’ Brienne chuckled to herself, glad that Jaime was lightening the mood.

**Brienne:** ‘Having a thick head doesn’t make you strong.’

**Jaime:** ‘No, my muscles do.’

**Jaime:** ‘I’ve seen you looking.’

**Jaime:** ‘Don’t even try to deny it.’

Brienne bit her lip; she really couldn’t deny it. Her phone buzzed again.

**Jaime:** Are you blushing?

Brienne was grateful that Jaime couldn’t actually see her.

**Brienne:** ‘No comment.’

**Brienne:** ‘Goodnight Jaime. And thanks, again.’

**Jaime:** ‘Sweet dreams x’

* * *

 

 

Jaime wondered if the small kiss at the end of his text had been overkill. But he found himself smiling and unable to care what it might mean or how much the Wench might question it. Neither of them had commented on the half-kiss he had given her as he left her apartment and for now, that was fine with him. He knew she hadn’t disliked it – otherwise he would have a broken arm to go with his other injuries. He turned over in his larger than necessary bed and knew that he would be able to sleep now.

* * *

 

‘Seriously Margaery, would you drop it.’ Brienne’s voice was getting louder as she got more and more irritable. Her friend had been harassing her all day.

‘You two are practically dating.’ Margaery persisted. Brienne scowled at her friend.

‘We are _not_.’ Brienne huffed.

‘You two are always going out to lunch or dinner or to the movies.’ Margaery really wasn’t going to let this go.

‘We work together and we’re friends.’ Brienne tossed aside the book she was trying to read; unfortunately – due to her friend’s inquisition – she’d re-read the same page about twenty times and still didn’t know what it said. ‘In what world would someone like Jaime Lannister date someone like me!?’ Brienne asked, knowing that her friend would have no answer when faced with the glaringly obvious truth of the matter – she was too tall and broad and ugly to be the object of a golden God such as Jaime Lannister.

Margarey’s tirade faltered a little when she heard the sad insecurity of her friends words. She got up and sat next to Brienne on the sofa. ‘In _this_ world.’ She spoke gently, trying not to roll her eyes. Brienne never could acknowledge all of the wonderful things about herself. ‘Take Oberyn,’ Margaery let it hang there before Brienne picked up the conversation.

‘What about him?’ Brienne asked; tired of all this talk.

Margaery settled down next to her friend. ‘He’s not so different from Jaime, right? They’re about the same age; they both have _unique_ family dynamics. They are both successful, good looking...’ Margaery paused to let her words sink in before she added bluntly. ‘... and they both want to fuck you.’ Subtle as a sledgehammer.

Brienne nearly choked on her own tongue. ‘Wh-... what are you talking about!?’ Margaery sighed at her friend’s inability to comprehend _why_ people might find her attractive and compelling. Who cared if she wasn’t some dainty flower; she had other, _better_ qualities that people were drawn to. 

‘Oberyn told me that he had a sex dream about you.’ The Tyrell heiress said matter-of-factly. Brienne looked appalled. ‘I don’t mind Brie – I know he’d never _actually_ cheat on me; it was just a dream. I don’t mind him looking... so long as he doesn’t touch.’ She quirked a perfectly sculpted eyebrow and smiled.

‘Jaime and I are just friends.’ Brienne explained, unsure of what else she could say in the situation.

‘Honey, I’ve seen the way you two are together. I’ve seen how he looks at you.’ Margaery said gently. ‘I think it’s really great if you two decide to move your relationship to the next stage. Just... don’t let his baggage drag you down.’ She gave Brienne a tight, short hug.

‘I have baggage too Marg.’ Brienne whispered into the ether.

 

* * *

 

‘So where’s your girlfriend tonight?’ Tyrion asked, taking a large gulp of red wine.

Jaime and Tyrion were at yet another Lannister family party. Though to call it a party was misleading – you wouldn’t find dancing and laughter here. These were Lannister’s and Lannister’s did _not_ act like fools. Jaime and Tyrion had been hiding out in the kitchen for a while, avoiding Cersei (if she decided to show up) and their Father who would undoubtedly lecture them both on their ‘unfortunate’ lifestyles.

‘She’d rather die than spend an evening in a room full of Lannister’s... and who can blame her.’ Jaime replied, wondering if he could leave already. ‘And she’s not my girlfriend.’ He added.

‘If you say so, brother.’ Tyrion drained yet another glass of wine.

‘I do.’

‘It’s your loss.’ Tyrion slurred.

Jaime frowned at his younger brother. ‘We should go back in.’ He picked up an orange juice and gestured for Tyrion to go ahead of him.

‘Yes. One more lap of the room and then I’m out of here.’ Tyrion straightened his tie and ambled over to the door.

‘Got a date with Tysha?’ Jaime asked knowingly.

‘Damn straight.’ Jaime envied the smile on Tyrion’s face.

Tyrion had been texting Tysha since they’d arrived. The Lannister brothers just needed to spend enough time here that was deemed appropriate before they could blow the whole thing off. The only people they could stand to be around (besides each other) were their Aunt Genna and Uncle Kevan; but both were occupied with their familial duties.

* * *

 

 

Jaime let out a sigh of relief as he and Tyrion exited the foyer. The night air was fresh and a welcome change from the stuffiness of the large house; Casterly Rock had always been pretentious and overbearing... even if it had once been their home.

‘How are you sweet cousin?’ Jaime shuddered; Cersei’s voice was a sickly sweet poison to his ears.

 

* * *

 

 


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little chapter for all of your wonderful comments! Cheers peeps! :) -X-

* * *

 

 

‘I _was_ fine.’ Jaime said through clenched teeth.

‘My ride’s here... gotta go.’ Chimed in Tyrion. Jaime couldn’t believe that his brother was abandoning him, the little traitor. Jaime sighed, he couldn't really blame him; the moment his own taxi arrived he would be in it before the driver pulled to a stop.

Jaime watched the car carry his brother away longingly. ‘Where’s your latest conquest?’ Jaime sneered.

Cersei adjusted her fur coat whilst answering, ‘Robert is parking the car, he doesn’t trust the valets with it.’ She said smugly. Jaime snorted derisively. It was odd to see her after so long. ‘You are a golden fool, Jaime.’ Cersei snapped. ‘To think that you and I could have ever gone public.’ Cersei leaned in closer; her strong perfume catching in the back of Jaime’s throat, _almost_ making him long to touch her again. Almost making him long for what once was... what never was.

Her slender hand, with crimson nails, clawed at his arm. Jaime took a long look at Cersei’s face; her cold, narrow eyes, the hard line of her lips. He could no longer see the things that had attracted him to her for so many years, only echo’s of former attraction. And he was glad of it. He pulled his arm from his cousin’s grasp, straightened out his navy suit and – without another word or glance - left the party.

He walked down the long driveway hoping he could stop the taxi before it drove past him. His breath swirled around him in the crisp night air. He kicked at the gravel beneath his leather shoes as he made his way to the main gates. His short encounter with Cersei had been conflicting – he’d wanted what he’d once imagined was forever his. But seeing her, hearing her... he knew they were no longer two parts of the same whole. Jaime couldn’t quite pinpoint who had changed the most – him or her – but in the end it didn’t really matter. All that mattered was that he knew what he wanted. And it was not Cersei.

 

* * *

 

 

Brienne was startled by the ringing of her phone. A familiar face filled the screen. Jaime. He’d taken the picture after they went go-karting, his crash helmet was perched on his head like a crown and he was holding up a tiny trophy (which had been awarded to everyone who’d participated). Jaime held it proudly as if he was No.1 on the podium at the F1. Brienne shook her head at his silliness and answered the call.

‘Come see me.’ Jaime said before Brienne could even say hello. His voice was deep and low.

‘How’s the party?’ She asked; picturing him hiding from his family in the coat closet.

‘Over. I left over half hour ago... I just got home.’ Brienne glanced at the clock. It was still pretty early. ‘Come see me, Brienne.’ Jaime pleaded again. His voice rasped down the phone making Brienne’s stomach drop and her heart race.

‘I’ll be there soon.’ Brienne hung up the phone, grabbed her jacket and called out to Margaery and Oberyn that she was going out.

Brienne was glad Jaime didn’t live too far away; the bus always smelled of vomit at this time of night and was usually occupied by the stranger inhabitants of the city, luckily for her it was pretty empty this evening.

Only when Brienne was standing outside his door did she find herself feeling oddly nervous. Security had waved her through the lobby, directing her to the elevator. Brienne had never actually been inside Jaime’s apartment before; the closest she’d been was waiting outside in Jaime’s car whilst he ran inside to get a jacket.

She raised a large hand, set her shoulders and gave the door a timid knock. ‘It’s open!’ She heard Jaime yell. She opened the door and took a tentative step into his home. Jaime was in the kitchen making coffee, he was picking up mugs, spooning coffee grounds, rummaging through his fridge... when all of a sudden he stopped. He poked his head around the fridge door to get a look at her. Brienne was standing awkwardly in the doorway, her hands clutching at the fabric of her jacket sleeves.

‘Close the door and come here.’ Jaime said. Brienne acquiesced and went to join him in the kitchen. Whilst Jaime was busy with all kinds of coffee paraphernalia she took the chance to survey his home. It was warmer than she expected. In truth, she’s pictured a bachelor pad, cold and minimal. But Jaime had lots of furniture, the walls were a warm, deep raspberry colour and he had large black and white photographs along one wall.

Jaime saw her admiring his home and smiled, it was important to him that she felt comfortable here. Brienne blushed when she noticed his attention was on her. They both flushed deeper; realising that their faces simultaneously lit up upon seeing one another.

‘Here’. Jaime said, handing her a mug of coffee. Jaime moved into the lounge and relaxed into the large sofa. Brienne fidgeted; feeling uncomfortable and out of place. ‘Sit down Wench, you’re making the place look untidy.’ Jaime said with a smile. _This_ Brienne could deal with, _this_ was familiar. Jaime’s teasing and mocking comments had long ago lost their bite; now it was more... _affectionate_.

Brienne set her mug down on the coffee table and shrugged out of her worn jacket. There were no other seats in the living room so she plonked down next to Jaime. She’d fumbled and kicked off her shoes whilst she was lingering by the door so she pulled her feet up under her bum and got comfortable.

‘Comfy?’ Jaime asked.

‘Very.’ Brienne took a sip of her coffee, strong and sweet; her throat hummed with delight as she swallowed. ‘So, how was the party of the century?’ She asked wryly.

‘The usual,’ Jaime shrugged. ‘Lots of ‘networking’ and failure to live up to expectations. I’m just glad Tyrion was there.’ He looked up at Brienne and grinned. ‘We hid in the kitchen for half the evening.’ He confessed.

‘Children.’ Brienne chuckled, shaking her head. ‘Though I can’t say I blame you from what you’ve told me.’ Jaime often complained about his family and their peculiar views on how people should and shouls not behave.

After a moment of silence and sipping coffee Jaime spoke again. ‘Cersei was there.’ He stated slowly, gauging Brienne’s reaction to his cousin’s name. His voice held no emotion. They’d rarely spoken of her. ‘Well, I bumped into her on my way out I mean.’

Brienne re-adjusted her feet, one of them was beginning to lose circulation. ‘How was that?’ She asked plainly, not wanting to intrude but also curious as to how he felt seeing her again.

Jaime thought about it seriously for a while before replying honestly, ‘Good, actually.’ He noticed the way Brienne dropped her gaze; her eyes scanning the room to avoid looking in his direction. ‘Gods, not like that!’ He hurried to add. ‘I meant it was good to see her and to... _not_ see her... not like I used to.’ He ran a hand through his hair, frustrated at not being able to put his words in order. ‘I couldn’t see anything in her that I used to love.’ He whispered. Brienne was sure his cheeks were a little flushed.

She took a moment to take him in; he’d long since removed his tie and suit jacket. The sleeves of his crisp, white shirt were rolled to his elbow, revealing tanned, toned forearms. His suit trousers were a deep navy colour, they looked expensive and new; and his hair was now poking out in random places from his frustrated hands running through it. Brienne admired his slight stubble and how it highlighted his strong jaw line, her eyes dipped to the tiny expanse of golden skin that peaked through the open shirt buttons at his neck. Suddenly she felt very warm and deposited her drink on the table.

Brienne realised that Jaime was now staring at her too. She wondered what he saw.

 

* * *

 

 


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have had so many wonderful responses to this fic so far..... thank you all so much for taking the time to read and leave such lovely comments!! :) :) you all rock! \m/
> 
> I don't think there will be many more chapters left to this fic..... maybe only one or two.... three max! :D
> 
> Enjoy...... -X-

* * *

 

 

Jaime raked his hand through his hair. How could he try to explain to someone what it was like to fall _out_ of love with someone. He took a breath and collected his scattered thoughts, in an attempt to explain; but when he looked up his was confronted with Brienne’s piercing gaze. Her sapphire blue eyes tore through him, sought out his soul and branded it their own.

Jaime liked how comfortable Brienne looked on his couch. She was curled into the corner, away from him, it made her look smaller, younger. But she looked at home too. He appreciated the way her large sweater had fallen off her shoulder to reveal smooth, pale skin and taught muscle. He wet his lips and swallowed hard. Brienne’s eyes followed his movements; her pupils dark and haloed by vivid azure.

‘You really shouldn’t keep looking at me like that.’ His voice cracked; his throat suddenly dry. Brienne’s attention slowly came back to his face. A Small crease formed between her brows.

‘Like what.’ She muttered quietly. Her voice coloured with embarrassment and a hint of desire. Brienne’s tongue flickered out to wet her suddenly dry lips. Her teeth fumbled at her lower lip; a nervous habit.

Jaime’s hand reached out to her, his long fingers holding her chin, stilling her actions. ‘Like you wanna eat me with a spoon.’ His gaze bore into her, hot and heavy. There was a trace of a teasing, seductive smile on his lips but his sea green eyes were severely sober.

‘I... I...’ Brienne was literally at a loss for words. _Had she been staring at him like that? Of course she had._ How could she get out of this without being utterly humiliated and ruining their friendship. Brienne knew that her face was flushed and that her eyes were wide and fearful. She began to pull away, her instinct to run was kicking into full force.

 

* * *

 

 

Jaime could see that Brienne was struggling; could see the uncertainty in her clear blue eyes. Before he could convince himself not to... before he could convince himself that he didn’t _want_ to... he pulled Brienne closer and kissed her.

Kissing her was like nothing he had ever known. She was sweet and tender but unforgiving – a slow burning fire that threatened to consume him. Brienne’s large hands clutched at the front of his shirt then slid up his chest and neck to nestle in his thick luscious hair. Jaime drew back for a hint of a second to draw in breath and then their lips were together again. Tasting, teasing, licking and... _Gods, did Brienne just moan?_ Jaime growled back at her in return and dragged her closer to his body. From their position on the sofa Brienne was almost on top of him, Jaime found that he liked the sensation of her being taller than him. Jaime kept pulling her closer and she allowed him to each and every time.

Jaime couldn’t believe how good it felt to be kissing her like this. All of his pent-up feelings and frustrations were coming out in his kisses. His throat burned sweetly with the taste of her. He was desperate to have her closer... kiss her more... touch her everywhere...

It was hard to tell how much time had passed; his head was swimming – eventually they parted. Brienne’s face was flushed. Not her usual tomato red from embarrassment, this was a delicate brushing of pink across her cheeks and neck – _this_ was the shade of lust. Her sapphire eyes were dark with desire and her lips were still parted as if from shock. Jaime smiled at her and gave her a chaste peck on the lips.

‘We shouldn’t have done that.’ Brienne stated suddenly, her words devoid of emotion.

‘Why not?’ Jaime asked, almost affronted.

‘We… We’re friends... you... you’re my boss for Seven’s sake!’ Brienne looked worried; like her world was ending and there was nothing she could do to stop it. Jaime sat, calmly appraising her dilemma. ‘What?’ She asked, miffed at his easiness with the situation.

Jaime licked his smirking lips and leaned forward, ‘You’re so... _good_.’ The words rushed out of Jaime's mouth in a breathless whisper into her ear, grinning wickedly. It turned him on. He gave her another quick kiss on her plump, swollen lips.

Brienne’s concern turned to confusion. Her brow creased and she bit her lip worryingly. ‘Wh-...why...’ Her voice was small and childlike. Jaime looked confused himself for a moment; and then he understood. She was asking why he had kissed her, why he had chosen _her_ of all people. He could feel anger bubbling in his stomach.

‘Don’t.’ He said strongly. ‘Don’t you dare ask _why_ I would kiss you. You are better than me in every single way.’ He lowered his head. ‘I should be asking you ‘why’, I’m much more screwed up than you.’ He snorted, that was the truth of it though. ‘The world should be full of people like you.’ Brienne’s throat tightened at his words. How could he think so highly of her but condemn himself as if it were nothing.

Brienne scoffed. ‘Are you _sure_ you didn’t have a few drinks at that party?' She said, lamely trying to steer them away from the seriousness that had descended upon them.

‘I mean it. You don’t know how unique you are.’ Jaime said emphatically.

Brienne’s mood immediately turned sour. ‘Trust me; I know exactly how _unique_ I am.’

‘You don’t.’ Jaime insisted.

‘All my life people have told me how ‘different’ and ‘unique’ I am. All euphemisms – spare me your contrived explanations.’ Jaime could tell that Brienne was getting more and more irked as she continued... she really didn’t believe him. He hated how low her self-esteem was.

‘Bloody hells Wench! Do you think I could kiss you like that if I didn’t _want_ to... if I didn’t _desire_ you!?’ Jaime’s blood was beginning to boil. How had it all turned around so quickly - one moment they are getting hot and heavy on his sofa and now they were almost yelling at one another.

’What do you want from me?’ She asked, her voice hoarse and desperate. Jaime could see tears threatening to fall, but Brienne held them at bay.

Jaime remained silent; waiting for her to cool down, for her to hear his words when he whispered dangerously, ‘Everything.’

‘Don’t mock me.’ There was no force behind her words. Jaime knew that she desperately _wanted_ to believe what he was saying but her head was telling her it was impossible. He shifted closer to her, his hands gently cupping her freckled cheeks, as if she might shatter beneath his soft touch.

His emerald eyes begged her to understand, to see herself the way he did. Brienne’s eyes were shimmering; even now she looked at him like he was a God. Jaime took a long, calming breath and let his thumbs caress her broad, rosy cheeks. He made sure his eyes never left hers as he spoke. ‘Brienne, if I could give you one thing in life, I would give you the ability to see yourself through my eyes; only then would you realise how special you are to me.’ Silent tears escaped from her hypnotic eyes, caught by Jaime’s thumb, he kissed her cheek lightly then moved to her ear. ‘Please don’t cry.’ He pleaded.

Brienne granted him his wish and sniffed a little as his thumbs erased the last of her tears. Brienne wrapped her strong arms around Jaime’s body and buried her face into his chest. He held her tightly, stroking her back, glad that her crying had subsided. They remained that way for a long time, their synchronized breathing was soothing and soon they had both fallen into a deep sleep.

 

* * *

 

 


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm SO sorry I didn't post this sooner, I meant to..... but I got distracted.... :-\ SORRY PEEPS!!
> 
> anywho... I hope you are all fully compensated for being made to wait by having this chapter,.... I really hope it does not disappoint... I think this will be the last chapter.... and I have one kind of 'wrap-up' chapter that I will post later on :) :)
> 
> THANK YOU so much to everyone who has taken the time to read, comment, give kudos on this fic - you are all wonderful! Drinks all around! :-)
> 
> Enjoy.... -X-

 

* * *

 

 

A piercing noise broke Brienne from her slumber. She shifted and her neck protested, stiff from being in the same position all night.

 

She stretched her neck to relieve the tension. It took her a moment to realise that her pillow was moving... or more accurately; breathing. When her eyes took in Jaime’s sleeping form it all came back to her – him inviting her over, their talk, his lips on hers. Brienne couldn’t help but smile a little at the sight of him – slumped in the corner of the sofa; his shirt wrinkled and his hair a clumsy mess – he looked as peaceful as she’d ever seen him.

 

The piercing noise shrilled again. Brienne quickly retrieved her phone and answered it.  ‘Hello?’ Brienne asked without even checking the caller ID.

 

‘Who the fuck is this?’ The voice at the end of the line hissed. Brienne’s brow furrowed.

 

‘Brienne. _You_ called _me_.’ She answered obviously. She heard the person on the other end of the phone drag in a deep breath.

 

‘No, I called my cousin. What are you doing with his phone?’ Cersei growled down the phone. Brienne’s face went pale as she glanced at the phone in her hand; it was Jaime’s, not hers as she’d thought.

 

‘I... er... ‘ Brienne wasn’t sure what to say. Luckily, Jaime stirred beside her and opened his eyes. He smiled upon seeing her but it dropped from his face when he saw the worried look in her eyes. 

 

‘What is it?’ He asked, concerned coloured his voice. Brienne dumbly held out the phone to him. ‘Who is this?’ He asked; his eyes never straying from Brienne’s. Brienne could hear chattering from the other end of the line. ‘Don’t call here again.’ Jaime said coolly; his emeralds still locked on her sapphires. He disconnected the call, even though Brienne could still hear Cersei talking.

 

‘I thought it was mine...’ Brienne explained, ‘...I didn’t mean to...’ She got up from the sofa and took a step away from him; her hands wringing together nervously.

 

Jaime countered her movement by standing himself and taking two steps towards her so that they were nose to nose. ‘It’s fine.’ He soothed her; his hands came to rest on her upper arms, her muscles tensed. Jaime cleared his throat. ‘You probably want a shower.’ He said. This is it, Brienne thought, he’s going to usher me out of here as soon as possible. It was certainly the nicest brush off she’d ever received.

 

‘Yeah... I should go.’ Brienne mumbled, turning her face away from his.

 

‘Nonsense.’ Jaime said, squeezing her arms. ‘Have a shower here. I’ll get you some sweats to wear.’ And with that he was disappearing down the hallway, presumably to his bedroom. Brienne was still rooted to the same spot when he returned a moment later. ‘Here.’ He handed her the clothes and pointed her in the direction of the bathroom.

 

Brienne couldn’t help but look back at him before she entered the bathroom. He was watching her; his white shirt was creased; the tops buttons undone. His hair was tousled and his feet were bare, his toes scrunching the soft carpet beneath them. To be fair, he wore it well... any man other than Jaime Lannister would have looked like a tramp.

 

As she might have guessed, Jaime’s bathroom was huge and luxurious. There was a free-standing bathtub that looked big enough to be comfortable even for someone of her height and size. The surfaces were all smooth marble and a large walk-in shower occupied the far corner of the room. Brienne stripped off her clothes and stepped under the stream of hot water; it felt heavenly. Realising that she didn’t have any products to use she perused Jaime’s supply. His body-wash and shampoo didn’t smell too ‘manly’ so she used a little of each. She stayed under the spray longer than necessary, enjoying the soothing feeling of the hot water cascading over her body. She always felt cramped in her shower at home and the pressure was rubbish, this was perfect.

 

When she got out she wrapped a large fluffy white towel around herself. She glanced longingly at Jaime’s toothbrush but it felt too personal to ‘borrow’ it; instead Brienne used her index finger to rubs some toothpaste onto her teeth and gargled a small amount of mouth wash – not a great solution but much better than nothing.

 

When Brienne pulled on the sweats that Jaime had given her she noticed that the smelled of him, she was certain that they had been worn and weren’t fresh from the laundry. Her stomach did a flip at the thought. Maybe it was just the body wash she had used. She bundled up her clothes from the night before and stepped out of the bathroom.

 

Brienne found Jaime in the kitchen, his hip resting against the work top; he looked deep in thought. ‘Thanks, for these.’ She said, gesturing to herself. Jaime broke out of his haze to look at her. His eyes took her in, head to toe and he smiled.

 

‘Looking good.’ He said, a glint in his eye. ‘Would you put some coffee on while I freshen up?’ He asked.

Brienne was surprised that he didn’t want her to leave straight away; surely she was invading his space and his free time. 

 

‘Sure.’ She replied. They were still friends weren’t they? So what if they had kissed a little, they were both tired and needed a little comfort... that was all. Wasn’t it?

 

By the time the coffee was brewing Jaime had emerged from his bedroom, his hair damp and tangled. He wore an old pair of faded jeans, riding low on his hips; with his favourite green plaid shirt, which was only half buttoned, giving Brienne an impressive view of his toned torso. He looked as though he had dressed in a hurry.

 

‘Still here?’ Jaime asked.

 

‘I can go if...’ Brienne sputtered.

 

‘I’m joking! Thought you might have legged it whilst I was in the shower.’ He winked at her. Jaime walked over to her slowly, he shocked her by kissing her softly on the cheek. ‘Good morning.’ He murmured against her skin. He seemed to breath her in, his nose running across her cheek to the lobe of her ear. ‘You smell of me.’ He almost groaned into her ear.

 

‘I, um... I didn’t have any-‘

 

‘I like it.’ He interrupted her, his arms wound around her waist, drawing her closer. Jaime stood on his toes so that they were eye to eye and planted a delicate kiss on the tip of her nose.

 

Brienne looked down, her palms were sweaty and her mouth had gone dry. 'Jaime, are you sure… about this,' she gestured between them; though Jaime didn't leave her much room to do so. 'About me?' She asked quietly. The uncertainness in her voice broke Jaime's heart. He drew her closer so that their lips were touching in an almost kiss.

 

'Stupid, stubborn Brienne... you've been my best friend for a long time now and - I'm not sure when - but somewhere along the way you became something much more than that. It just took me a little while to figure it out.' Jaime kissed her full on the mouth.

 

'Are _you_ sure?' He chuckled; though the catch in his voice and the way his grip tightened on her waist told Brienne that he really wanted to know; he was nervous too.

 

'Yes.' Brienne said surely. 'It's just… I'll never be _her_ … I'll never be…'

 

Jaime cut in before she could finish. 'That's what I love most about you,' he said lazily. They both let the endearment slide. 'I know it's awful to put you side by side but… it truly makes me see that you are the better person. You're everything I want.' Jaime could see that Brienne's eyes were a little glazed over at his words. 'Silly Wench.' He mumbled against her lip, Brienne closed the gap to silence him, kissing him properly.

 

Brienne's hands travelled up from where they were resting at Jaime's waist. Her fingertips memorising each muscle as they went. When her fingers finally brushed his neck and then delved into his hair Jaime let out a whimper of pleasure. He stepped towards her, pressing her against the marble worktop. Jaime could smell his body-wash on her, the heady scent fogged his mind; the thought of her in his shower, using his products… _naked_ \- it drove him further. His lips moved to her long neck, nipping and licking as he went. He found a particularly sweet spot behind her ear and then further down as he swept across her collarbone; one side and then the other. Jaime's hands moved of their own accord; caressing her waist, clutching at her firm ass and then finally gripping her thick thighs to lift her onto the counter. Brienne was pleasantly surprised at how easily he'd picked her up. He spread her legs and positioned himself between them. She was much taller than him now but - for some reason - he found it turned him on even more; to reach for her, to have her meet his lips hungrily.

 

Bravely, Brienne's hands found their way into Jaime's half-buttoned shirt. His skin was warm and still the tiniest bit damp from his shower. Her fingers traced the toned outline of his chest, the golden skin was soft and strong as she explored. Her fingers itched to go lower, to discover his abs and stomach, to reach around his slim waist and caress his broad back and shoulders. She was sorely tempted to rip the shirt from his body - but she'd always liked this shirt on him and she knew it was one of his favourites. Brienne opted to unbutton it instead, even though her shaky fingers were unbearably slow at the task.

Jaime’s dark eyes were fixed on hers, even though her focus was on her hands and their task – she could feel him staring at her. Brienne pushed the material of his shirt off of his shoulders; it bunched at his elbows as he refused to release his grip of her so that it could be removed altogether. Jaime’s bare skin seemed to glow a golden-bronze. Brienne’s lips were drawn to his chest; she kissed him lightly, just below his collarbone. He shuddered at the contact. Brienne could feel his whole torso tensing; his muscles flexing beneath her lips.

 

‘Gods.’ He breathed. ‘You’re going to be the death of me.’ Jaime was sure Brienne was smiling as she kissed her way from one side of his chest to the other. Jaime’s grip on her thighs tightened as he kissed her

 

deeply; he dragged her closer so that she was only just perched on the worktop - his hips supported most of her weight. When she gasped against his open mouth Jaime knew that she could feel his arousal pressing against her. The way Brienne’s wet, warm tongue was caressing his lower lip had him whimpering.

 

‘Such a tease.’ He said with a smile.

 

‘I’m only a tease if I don’t follow through.’ Brienne answered boldly, drunk on lust; her lips barely left

his as she spoke. Her large hands tucked into the waistline of his jeans and popped the button. But before she could delve any further Jaime stopped her.

 

‘Not so fast.’ He said. And for a moment Brienne’s heart stopped beating; afraid she had done or said something wrong. ‘I’m not going to stand here and be stripped naked whilst you’re still wearing so many clothes.’ He affirmed. ‘It’s hardly fair now, is it Miss Tarth.’ His eyes gleamed mischievously.

 

Quick as a flash he had freed himself of his own shirt - untangling it from his arms - and was tugging his enormous sweatshirt off and over Brienne’s head. He was pleasantly surprised to find that she had declined to put her bra back on after her shower and wondered whether she had also foregone her panties too. The thought made him painfully hard. Her breasts were small but round and the creamy flesh was sprinkled with freckles. Jaime could see that Brienne was apprehensive about being on display so openly before him. He kissed her hard; leaving no room for doubt as to the way she made him feel. His hungry mouth trailed from hers – tasting her neck and shoulders and finally her breasts.

 

Brienne’s hands fisted in Jaime’s hair, torn between dragging him closer and pushing him away. Her hips rolled against his wantonly as he tasted every inch of her exposed chest.

 

An a uncharacteristically girlish whimper escaped her kiss swollen lips as Jaime ceased kissing her sensitive skin. His eyes were burning; dark with desire and Brienne knew that hers must be alight in the same way.

 

* * *

 

 

As reluctant as Jaime was to admit it - he'd never seen that look before. Only with her. Only Brienne. Cersei had looked at him with want and need. In the early days he believed that she had loved him - and she truly might have - but over their time together it had diminished; overshadowed by her selfish need for more. More power… more money… more than he could give her.

 

The unadulterated, all-consuming look in Brienne's eyes could only be one thing; love. 'Fuck.' He whispered in awe of her. His greedy lips devoured hers again, the hunger impossibly stronger than before. He swallowed her protests as he tightened his grip around her waist and hoisted her off of the kitchen counter.

 

Their lips never broke contact as Jaime carried Brienne down the long corridor and into his bedroom. He deposited her - somewhat unceremoniously - onto his large bed. He followed her down; his body aligning perfectly to hers. Brienne moaned loudly and unashamedly as Jaime ground into her, his hips against her. He quickly became frustrated by the barrier of his jeans and her (his) sweat pants. He tore himself away from her sweet lips and with one - unnecessary - look for confirmation from Brienne he quickly divested her of her last piece of clothing. 

 

'Well you are just full of surprises Miss Tarth.' Jaime drawled as he took in her naked form. She had indeed gone without her panties after her shower. A part of Jaime was eager to know what they looked like - what she looked like in them… but that could wait. Now, his eyes feasted on her creamy skin - marred here and there by scars and highlighted by freckles. Her legs were unbelievably long and strong and her flat stomach gave way to broad hips, every inch of her covered in smooth, pale skin. Jaime's jeans were becoming excruciatingly tight. The admiration in Jaime's eyes had Brienne blushing worse than the fact that she was fully naked, spread out on Jaime Lannister's king size bed. She was naked! In front of her best friend; her boss! But that meant little and less to her as Jaime's hands ran up and down the length of her body.

 

She could see that his jeans were straining against his erection. 'I'm not the only one… Mr Lannister.' Brienne said cheekily, gesturing to the bulge in his trousers.

 

Jaime pinned her to the bed, his lips caressed the shell of her ear. 'My name is Jaime.' He growled as he bit into the flesh of her neck, sucking at it afterwards to sooth it. He tortured her with soft kisses and light touches, making no move to rid himself of his jeans.

 

When it became too much Brienne took control and flipped them over so that Jaime was now the one pinned beneath her. 'I love it when you take charge.' Jaime beamed up at her, his most smug smile on his lips, watching as Brienne’s face flamed red. His golden hair was a tousled halo about his head. Brienne revelled in his bronzed skin - a stark contrast from her pale pallor. Brienne yanked at the waistband of his jeans, the button already gaping open from earlier. She raised herself from him so that she could pull them off of his legs. When she returned to him she straddled his waist, the heat and hardness of him pressed against her. They both gasped, equal parts shock and pleasure. Brienne bent down to steal a kiss from his parted lips, her breasts pressed against his muscular chest and her hands gripped at his biceps.

 

Before Brienne could reposition herself Jaime flipped them once more, he pressed Brienne down into the mattress, their legs were tangled and in one excruciatingly slow thrust, he entered her. Their heated breaths mingled as Jaime pulled out of her and pushed back in a little harder than before. They were opposites in almost every sense of the word - but they fit together seamlessly. Brienne tried to slow her mind as it raced, focusing only on Jaime and his movements. Soon she was moving with him; meeting him thrust for thrust. Urging him on and her pleasure built and intensified. Jaime's eyes were tightly shut, his lower lip caught between his teeth, Brienne could feel his toes curling and uncurling as she ran her own feet over his legs and up to his backside.

 

'Jaime.' She managed to utter. She was so close to her climax that even saying his name was an effort for her. His eyes brimmed with a carnal lust as he understood her plea. He shifted his hips a little and increased the speed of the snap of his hips, Brienne's legs tightened around his, urging him on, taking him in further than before. She came undone beneath him and moments later he collapsed on top of her; sated and sweaty.

 

Brienne loved the feel of his weight on her, the smell of his skin and the brush of his hair against her chest. She breathed him in, her lips ghosting over his forehead as she struggled to bring her breathing back to normal. Jaime murmured something against her sticky skin. 'What?' She asked, amused that he could barely lift his head to answer her.

 

'Why did we wait so long to do that?' He said, his voice muffled against her chest. He didn't really want an answer so Brienne just hugged him tighter before letting him go so that they could clean themselves up a little.

 

When Jaime returned from the bathroom he crawled underneath the covers that she had pulled over herself and snuggled into her back, his arm draped protectively over her stomach. Brienne hummed appreciatively at the contact and within minutes they were both fast asleep.

 

* * *

 

When Brienne woke up it was late afternoon; a warm haze had settled over Jaime's room. Soft finger tips were trailing across her ribcage, skimming the underside of her breast. She could feel Jaime's nose and lips caressing her neck and shoulder as he alternated between tasting her skin and breathing in her scent, his warm body was pressed flush against here's. 'Morning.' He whispered, startling her a little.

 

'I think you mean afternoon.' She murmured and turned to face him. Jaime kissed her languidly; still half asleep.

 

'Make me breakfast Wench.' He drawled as his hands continued to re-explore her inviting flesh.

 

'Lannister, you must be dreaming if you think I'm going to cook you breakfast.' She nudged him lightly and Jaime smiled at the easy tone of her voice. 'Besides, I need a shower.' Brienne said, even as she snuggled further into Jaime's embrace.

 

'Alright, alright… first we'll have a dirty shower and then breakfast.' Brienne snorted at his ridiculous logic - but found she could not refute it.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey peeps - this is the last chapter....
> 
> I'm not 100 sure about it... I don't know if its too rushed or just a bit vague... I would love to go into it in more detail but I think this is the best place to leave this fic! :)
> 
> Thanks so very much to everyone who is reading and commenting on this - it really does mean the world to me!
> 
> CHEERS GUYS!!! I hope you enjoy the ending... MUCH LOVE -X-

 

* * *

 

 

They decided to leave it a few weeks before telling anyone about the development in their relationship.

Margarey's response had been simple: ''I knew you were fucking all along.''

All in all it had gone well - Margaery and Tyrion were happy for them and they agreed to keep their relationship quiet for the time being. Brienne was concerned about what her colleagues would say. She was still young and working her way up in the business, The last thing she wanted was for people to think that she was sleeping with Jaime to get ahead in her career - of course anyone that _really_ knew her would know that that would be the last thing that Brienne would ever do. Jaime told her that it would be more likely that they would blame him for seducing a poor, young, naive girl; like Red Riding Hood being fed to the Big Bad Wolf.

Working together was not without its challenges. Jaime would often corner Brienne in the coffee room or supply cupboard; stealing a forbidden kiss, daring her to take things further. Brienne found it most difficult when they would work late together - pouring over files and documents. She would glance at Jaime and be overwhelmed by how much she wanted him. His brow furrowed in concentration, his hair mussed as he ran his fingers through it; his shirt open at the collar - the tie long ago discarded and his sleeves rolled up to his elbows. She'd almost pounced on him there and then, ready to live out her desk sex fantasy. Jaime had looked up in her direction as her crooked teeth worried at her bottom lip, read her mind - as he seemed to be able to do - he'd quickly ordered her to pack away her things and all but dragged her from the building. The next morning she'd had to wear a turtleneck to cover the marks he'd left on her milky skin.

 

* * *

 

 

'Come on sweetling,' Jaime said, leaning over her. 'Stay with me… we can try out my new desk.' He waggled his eyebrows as Brienne's face burned. One day she would tell him all about her fantasy of them together in his office, on the desk… the chair… the floor…. against his bookshelf. Though Jaime had kept his voice low and no-one was nearby Brienne was terrified that someone had heard him.

'I told you, I promised Marg I'd have dinner with her.' She reminded him, she knew Jaime was just trying to get out of doing his back log of paperwork. 'I'll come by after to see you.' She placated him. Jaime's answering grin threatened to consume his face. Brienne continued to pack away her things before leaving for the evening. 'Goodnight Mr Lannister.' She said formally. She was sure she heard Jaime mutter _'It will be'_ under his breath.  but all the office heard was;

'Goodnight Miss Tarth.'

 

* * *

 

 

Brienne's dinner with Margaery was short-lived - Margarey apologised and said that they would have a proper catch up soon. Margaery was busy with Oberyn and her work schedule was crazy busy - she had to get home and prep for the next morning's meeting. They embraced and went their separate ways, but not before Margaery asked Brienne about her blooming sex life.

'Is he a good lay? With a face and body like that he better be.' Marg winked at her best friend. Brienne spluttered a non-committal reply and headed toward the train station.

Brienne fished the key to Jaime's apartment out of her bag and sent him a quick text. 'Finished early with Marg. See you at home.' Brienne hadn't even realised that she'd written 'home' until after the text had sent. She hoped that Jaime wouldn't read too much into it. After all he'd given her the key almost immediately after their first night together, but it was still his home, not hers... not _theirs_.

Jaime still wasn't home by the time Brienne reached the apartment. He must have been more behind on his paperwork than she thought. She hopped in the shower fan then started to make Jaime some dinner. At 9:20pm her phone rang.

'Hello?' Brienne listened intently to the hurried voice on the other end of the line. The saucepan in her hand clattered to the floor as she rushed to get her keys.

Jaime was at the hospital. Unconscious.

 

* * *

 

 

Brienne hardly recalled the trip to the hospital. She sent a babbled text to Margarey (knowing she wouldn't take a call whilst working). The nurse that greeted her said that she'd contacted Mr Lannister's brother but that he was out of town and would take a whole to get to the hospital. Of course - Tyrion had gone to Bitterbridge on a business trip. Apparently Jaime had called for her so the EMT's had found her number on his phone and called her. He was conscious when they found him, _that's good_ Brienne told herself.

The nurse told Brienne that it looked like he'd been beaten and mugged. Brienne was hardly surprised - Jaime's suits were lush and expensive and there was an air of affluence about him. The way he held himself.

She sat in the waiting room, in an uncomfortable chair; watching the cream paint peel and flake in the corner of the ceiling. She sat for hours, unfeeling - frozen in a state of shock. Sometime later a young Maester approached her, he was a little overweight and had a dark beard and floppy hair. 'Miss Tarth?' Brienne felt herself nod. I'm Maester Tarly. Mr Lannister is out of surgery and should be awake in a couple of hours.' Brienne let out a breath that she felt like she'd been holding since she dashed out of Jaime's apartment. The Maester's words floated around her though she couldn't grasp them. _Jaime was going to be ok_. Her heart soared. And then plummeted as the word 'amputated' pierced her happy bubble.

'What?!' She blurted, interrupting the young man.

'As I said, the injury to his hand was extremely severe - we attempted to repair the damage but I'm afraid we had to amputate Mr Lannister's right hand. I'm very sorry.' He paused for a moment, letting her take in the news and giving her time to breath. She appreciated it. 'You can see him now if you'd like.' Brienne nodded emphatically.

Jaime was hooked up to various monitors and wires. Needles protruded from his arms. The room was dim and cold - a sterile environment. Once she was alone with him she took the opportunity to step closer and study him. His golden skin was blemished by blue and purple bruises and vivid red cuts; he looked ghastly pale under the florescent lights. Jaime's right hand - well, what would have been Jaime's right hand - was thickly bandaged.

Brienne fell into the chair beside Jaime's bed and silently let her tears fall. It was impossible to reconcile this still, silent, sallow man with _her_ vivacious irrepressible Jaime. Though bruised and battered, his face was still as beautiful as ever. _Half a God and half a corpse,_ Brienne thought.

Jaime was unconscious for a long time and when he woke things went from bad to worse. At first Jaime had cried over the loss of his hand. Then, he raged at the Maesters who tried to help him. He grew bitter and depressed in such a short time that Brienne began to truly worry about him.

 

* * *

 

 

This was the third time in as many days that Tyrion had been hounding him about his mood and how he should 'look on the bright side'. His brother didn't understand - how could he? How could anyone?

'Seriously bro, you need to stay positive - things will get better. I _promise_ you. You just can't see it yet.' Jaime remained silent, unwilling to engage in this conversation yet again.

'Jaime.' Tyrion said firmly. 'You've been taking this out on Brienne.' Jaime glared daggers at his younger brother. 'I've seen it,' Tyrion persisted. 'You may not mean to… but you're hurting her. You're pushing her away when she's the one thing you should be holding onto the tightest.' Tyrion realised his mistake a second too late.

'Is that a fucking joke!?' With his left hand Jaime threw the plastic cup next to his water jug at Tyrion's head. If his brother had been of a normal height Jaime may have hit his mark - as it was, he missed by about 3 feet.

'I'm sorry - bad choice of words.' Tyrion said. He waited for Jaime to calm himself and speak again.

'You don't understand, how could you?' Jaime uttered miserably. He was hideous, a monster. When one of the nurses had changed his bandages he'd seen how revolting he was. His skin was red and gnarled. He was grotesque. _How could anyone love a beast such as me._  

 

* * *

 

 

Brienne stood in the hallway outside of Jaime's hospital room. She had been about to enter when she heard raised voices and then the clang of something hitting the floor. Brienne was tired and frustrated - Jaime had been angry and depressed - and rightly so. And whilst she understood his pain; his inability to talk to her about it was talking its toll. All of her pent up feelings came out as she entered Jaime's room.

'You really think we don't understand?' Brienne asked. Jaime's eyes widened in shock at her sudden appearance. 'Your brother and I understand more than most what it’s like not to be perfect.' Brienne strode across the room and back again. She deliberately let her eyes run the length of him, propped up in bed. 'Gods! Even now you're more beautiful than you have any right to be. That,' she gestured at his bound stump, 'is _nothing_ a mere speck on a masterpiece.' Her eyes were filling with tears as she spoke and her voice faltered as she finished.

In his defence, Jaime looked thoroughly reproached. He swallowed hard. 'Brienne, please… I'm sorry -'

'No.' Brienne said, angrily wiping away tears. 'I _love_ you.' She declared. 'And even if you'd lost both your arms _and_ legs - _nothing_ would ever change that.' More tears fell as Brienne stormed out of Jaime's room.

 

* * *

 

Jaime had spent the whole night tossing and turning in his itchy hospital bed. He had tried to call Brienne several times but she'd switched off her phone. Tyrion had tried to soothe him after Brienne had left - telling him that she just needed to cool off. It did little to relieve the tension in Jaime's stomach.

Brienne arrived mid-morning the next day. Today was the day the Maester's had decided that Jaime could be released and go home. He couldn't wait. But he feared that he had hurt Brienne too much; that she would not want to be around him anymore.

'Hi.' Brienne said timidly as she entered his room. Jaime looked up from the bag he was packing single handed. Tyrion had dropped in some things for him the night before. When he saw her standing there, her clothes rumpled and her tired eyes, he thought he'd never seen anything so stunning. For the first time in days a genuine smile flashed across his face.

'You came.' He said, the hope in his voice was unmissable.

'Of course I came.' Brienne replied. She stepped further into the room and closed the door behind her. 'Jaime, I'm sorry about yesterday… I was upset, but you didn't deserve…'

'Brienne, no.' Jaime strode over to her, his bruised and broken bones protesting with each step. 'I am _so_ sorry... I shouldn't have taken this out on you.' Jaime's left hand cupped Brienne's freckled cheek. 'When I was lying there, in the street… and then after, in the ambulance…' Jaime's throat closed, the memories overwhelming him. '…the only thing that kept me alive was you. I love you Brienne.'

Jaime wiped the tears from his face as Brienne wound her arms around his waist and pulled him tightly to her. They stood, embracing, until the Maester came in to discharge Jaime.

'Let’s go home.' Jaime said, taking Brienne's hand in his and leading her out of the room - Jaime would be happy if he never saw the inside of a hospital room again.

 

* * *

 

 

When they got to Jaime's apartment Brienne felt awkward. She loitered by the kitchen, unsure of where she should place herself.

Jaime returned from the bathroom. 'Sit down Tarth, you're making the place look untidy.' He said with a familiar, warm, mocking tone. Brienne smiled and moved to sit down on the large sofa. Jaime joined her. He silently regarded her as they both settled into the cushions.

'You're home. Do you feel better?' Brienne asked.

Jaime put his arm around her broad shoulders. ' _We_ are home.' He guided Brienne's head to rest on his shoulder - on his good side of course. 'And I _swear_ that I will be fine. So long as you're here with me.' Brienne kissed Jaime, slow and gentle until it grew into something raw and transcendent.

They made out on his couch like teenagers, Jaime used every excuse he could to touch Brienne until they became engrained upon one another. They would be fine. They would be better than fine. They made each other better, stronger, more complete than when they were apart.

 

* * *

 

 

**END**


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